Through
the Eyes of a Child!
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
highchair tray. His eyes were wide with excitement and his mouth was
bared in a toothless grin. He wriggled and giggled with merriment.
I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man with
a tattered rag of a coat, dirty, greasy, and worn. His 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 there, baby! Hi there,
big boy! I see 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
know 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 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 expressed their
love. Erik in an act of total trust, tenderness, and submission lay 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 gently, so gently, 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 for
a moment, and then 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 had been blind to this man's needs, 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."
Author unknown