A baby's hug story

Someone sent me this story today, and so I definitely wanted to share it!



A Baby's Hug
=============
We were the only family with children in the
restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed
everyone was quietly eating and talking.

Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi
there." He pounded his fat baby hands on the high
chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and
his mouth was bared in a toothless grin as he wriggled
and giggled with merriment.

I looked around and saw the source of his merriment.
It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at
half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes.
His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and
unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a
beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road
map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure
he smelled.

His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. "Hi ya,
buster," the man said to Erik. My husband and I exchanged
looks, "What do we do?" Erik continued to laugh and
answer, "Hi, hi there."

Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at
us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating
a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came
and the man began shouting from across the room, "Do
ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look,
he knows peek-a-boo."

Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was
obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed.
We ate in silence, all except for Erik, who was running
through his repertoire for the admiring skid row bum,
who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the
door. My husband went to pay the check and told
me to meet him in the parking lot.

The old man sat poised between me and the door.

"Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me
or Erik," I prayed.

As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying
to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As
I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both
arms in a baby's "pick-me-up" position.

Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself
from my arms to the man's. Suddenly a very old smelly man
and a very young baby consummated their love relationship.
Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission
laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder.

The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover
beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime,
pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and
stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved
so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck.

The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms
and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He
said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care
of this baby."

Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that
contained a stone. He pried Erik from his chest unwillingly,
longingly, as though he were in pain.

I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless
you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift."

I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik
in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering
why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly and why
I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me."

I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the
innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no
judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who
saw a suit of clothes.

I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who
was not. I felt it was God asking, "Are you willing to share
your son for a moment?" when He shared His for all eternity.

The ragged old man unwittingly, had reminded me,
"To enter the Kingdom of God, we must become as little
children."
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