A baby's hug (don't enter if you don't want to read long story)

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  • Fucksakes
    Shit... Fuck! What the Hell?
    • Dec 2003
    • 7567

    #1

    A baby's hug (don't enter if you don't want to read long story)

    From my christian cousins.. I don't normally read these emails..

    worth the read thou.

    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 sitting and talking.
    > Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, 'Hi.' 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 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.'
    >
    > 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.
    >
    > Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated
    > their love and kinship. 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, lovingly and 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 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.'
    >
    > Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us of what is really important. We
    > must always remember who we are, where we came from and, most importantly,
    > how we feel about others. The clothes on your back or the car that you
    > drive or the house that you live in does not define you at all; it is how
    > you treat your fellow man that identifies who you are.
  • rowan
    Too lazy to set a custom title
    • Mar 2002
    • 17393

    #2
    Nice story, but I'll have to admit I start to tune out once I see words capitalised like "He" and "Him"

    Comment

    • TheStout
      Confirmed User
      • Jul 2007
      • 2089

      #3
      Nice story

      Comment

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