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ABDUL SYAHID
NUREEN FAQIHAH & NOOR ZAKIYYAH AMALIN
NURIN HANNANI
Friday, January 28, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
A MOTHER'S STORY
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 high-chair 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 toe pocked 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 wrist. “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 embarrassed.
We ate in silence, all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who is 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 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 loving 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 labour, gently, ever 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 the 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 fondest memory." 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 the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made a judgement, a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
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