[HPN] Think on this one!

[unclescam]

bill
  just what lesson is to be learned from this story?
nobody paid for this lesson?
a free jolt for the rich ?
why wasn't the bum thrown out o the restraunt/?
even bums like babies ?
hell i'm a bum and i got grandkid.
kids like dirty bums who smile and play like children?
i don't get it. what does christ have to do with this?
is this a showing of bad behaviour by this lady?
what do you see in this ?
uncle scam

William Tinker wrote:

>
>
>
>  GOD WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS
>
> 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
> old man sat poised between the door and me. "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'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 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 an eternity. The ragged old man, unwittingly,
> had reminded me, "To enter the Kingdom of God, we must become as little
> children."
>
> ~Author Unknown~
>
> _______________________________________________