Angel's Craft
AND A CHILD
SHALL LEAD THEM…
We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Justin in a high chair and I noticed
everyone was eating and talking.
Suddenly, Justin squealed with delight and said, "Hi
there." He pounded his fat baby
hands on the high chair 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 red 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 tell, 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 Justin. My husband and
I exchanged looks, "What do we do?"
Justin 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 Justin, 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
Justin," 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, Justin
leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's "pick-me-up"
position. Before I could stop him,
Justin 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. Justin 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, 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 Justin 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 Justin 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 Justin in my
arms, I ran for the car.
My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Justin so
tightly, and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me." I had just witnessed God'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. It was I 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."
courtesy
of Odette & Joelle
A COURSE IN MIRACLES [excerpt]
THINGS AREN’T ALWAYS WHAT THEY SEEM
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