FOODFORTHOUGHT

F O O D F O R T H O U G H T

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ADVISORY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just a little favor from our loyal subscribers. Since FoodForThought is a free mailing service, please click and visit our FoodForThought/Google Ads at http://home.earthlink.net/~foodforthought2/id280.html. Thank you for your kind support and being a part of daily FoodForThought!. --Rick, FFT Moderator

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~THANK YOU~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a first-person account from a mother about her family as
they ate dinner on Christmas Day in a small restaurant many miles from
their home. Nancy, the mother, relates:

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?" 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 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
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 side-step 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-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 judgement, 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 an eternity. The ragged old man,
unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter the Kingdom of God, we must
become as little children."

PRAYER
"Lord Jesus, I profess and believe that you are the Christ, the Son of
the living God. You are my Lord and my Savior. Make my faith strong
like Peter's and give me boldness to speak of you to others that they
may come to know you personally as Lord and Savior and grow in the
knowledge of your love".

****************************************************************

DISCLAIMER: FoodForThought shared this message as submitted and do not

claim to own any copyright privileges on it. All the messages are

believed to be free for circulation or public domain. All messages come

in either by email in original form or copied from the internet sites.

The work was submitted to us as an item for distribution, and it was

posted solely on the basis of its quality. It's a FREE service.

****************************************************************

To subscribe/unsubscribe, tell friends about FoodForThought, share a

reflection, read past issues and feedbacks, give donation or submit a

prayer request please go to: http://www.dailyfoodforthought.org

If you have no access to the internet, use these emails:

To subscribe:

subscribe@dailyfoodforthought.org

To unsubscribe:

unsubscribe@dailyfoodforthought.org

Feel free to forward this to your friends, family and associates!

Have a nice day!

© 2005 FoodForThought

# posted by F O O D F O R T H O U G H T @ 6:38 AM 0 comments