Sunday, January 2, 2011
JANUARY- "I had just witnessed real love..."
We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat my son Erik in a high chair. Suddenly, he squealed with glee and said, 'Hi!' He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray, laughing and giggling endlessly. I looked around and saw a man whose pants were baggy with his toes poking out of his shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.
'Hi there, baby; hi there, I see ya!' the man said to Erik. My husband and I exchanged looks. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was laughing loudly across the room, exchanging smiles with the skid-row bum.
Finally 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 cradled Erik in his arms as 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 a 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 real 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 forgot how to. I was blind, holding a child who was not.
Anonymous,
Dublin, Ireland
'Hi there, baby; hi there, I see ya!' the man said to Erik. My husband and I exchanged looks. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was laughing loudly across the room, exchanging smiles with the skid-row bum.
Finally 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 cradled Erik in his arms as 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 a 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 real 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 forgot how to. I was blind, holding a child who was not.
Anonymous,
Dublin, Ireland
Artist,
Kenneth McNeil- Copenhagen, Denmark
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