A Baby's Hug

Submitted by: Shelly Hoff

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
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 affirm 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.'

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.