A Baby's Hug... ♥

Thank you for sharing this beautiful story Tim!!! I was deeply moved by this Truth. ♥ This story is what I mean when I say I don't like labels. Not that labels shouldn't exist. Labels are necessary to indentify everything around us. It's part of the human condition. Scientist catergorize the multitude of species using labels. Corporations use labels to identify their products. Countries use labels to identify regions, states and cities. We need labeles to identify the many different languages. Sports categories and teams have labels. Our names are labels. How else are we expected to respond without a name. In other words, if I hear my name "Josette" called out in a crowd of people I will naturally respond. There is no shame in labels. Do you get my point?

Nevertheless, when I am interacting with another person, I am speaking to their heart and I see their spirit. Many of you would probably refer to this as being "color blind", but I am actually "LABEL BLIND". I don't care what label you have chosen to identify yourself with or what label society has given you. What matters most to me is who you are as a "human being". Are you a kind-hearted loving person or one who treats others with disdain or with manipulative intent. I have notice that most people approach another person or interact with another person with a label imprinted in their heart and pre-judge that person limiting any genuine form of exchange.

Like I said, labels are necessary for identification, but should not be used as limiting barriers or discrimination due to shallowness of self. Because that is what you are, SHALLOW a person with no real depth. I have often heard people say, "He's one of the few "white" boy's I like." or "She's a good "black" speaker." or "Gay people are godless." said by Christian, Muslim, Catholic and Jewish people who are supposed to operate in love and not condemnation or Marxist elitist who believe that "The middle class are the evil bourgeoisie." The last statement is funny to me, because the very people professing that and who show such disdain for the middle class had to pass "through" the middle class and "used" them to become wealthy themselves and now they are condemning them. These are just a few examples of small shallow narrow-mindedness. Just because a person has a Ph.d or have been deemed to be part of the intelligentsia class or have a religious label doesn't mean they have any sense: a general conscious awareness. Some of these folks are more like clever people meaning: superficially skillful, showing self-interest and shrewdness in dealing with others. People who need to display this kind of superiority complex have many insecurities and are harmful to society as a whole. Are you able to discern these qualities in a person?

Regardless of what you believe, The golden rule is best interpreted as saying: "Treat others the way you want to be treated."

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 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.' If this has blessed you, please bless others by sending it on. Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us of what is really important. Remember who we are, where we came from and, most importantly, how we feel about others. The clothes on our back or the car that we drive or the house that we live in does not define us at all; it is how you treat your fellow man that identifies who you are.

Lord help me to treat everyday as Christmas, Amen!!!