Last Sunday, my daughter and I had to sit in the balcony at church. It’s been that way for the past couple of Sundays because it’s a new year (not to mention our severe tardiness). Anyway, it doesn’t bother us to sit up there although it takes forever to get out at the end of service.
Well, as I listened to the message and tried to understand how it applied to my own life, I started to notice the cute little brown baby boy who was being held by a woman sitting in front of me. He could have been about seven months old. The woman who I first assumed was his mother had him standing in her lap and facing the both of us. Just as I noticed him and smiled, he noticed me and smiled wider. From that point on, he continued to watch me and wait for me to return his stare, so that he could charm me some more with his deep dimples and curly black afro. Even though I’d returned my attention to Pastor, I could not continue to ignore this sweet child begging for my attention with his stare and rewarding me with such a beautiful happy smile when I gave it to him. Neither could the woman who was holding him. She started bouncing him up and down in an attempt to end his sudden fascination with me. Eventually, she handed him back to his mother who after noticing his interest in something or someone behind her, followed his line of sight to me. I looked at her and smiled. I think she expected to catch me doing something to encourage his behavior. But, I wasn’t. No coochie-coochie-coos, cutsie winks, funny faces, nothing. Only an occasional smile.
I don’t know what this child saw when he looked at me that made him want to smile. I’d like to think that somehow my smiling face made him happy. I’d like to think that he saw what God sees when He looks at me—my spirit. He wasn’t laughing, just smiling like he was the happiest baby alive. Regardless, I won’t soon forget him.
Well, as I listened to the message and tried to understand how it applied to my own life, I started to notice the cute little brown baby boy who was being held by a woman sitting in front of me. He could have been about seven months old. The woman who I first assumed was his mother had him standing in her lap and facing the both of us. Just as I noticed him and smiled, he noticed me and smiled wider. From that point on, he continued to watch me and wait for me to return his stare, so that he could charm me some more with his deep dimples and curly black afro. Even though I’d returned my attention to Pastor, I could not continue to ignore this sweet child begging for my attention with his stare and rewarding me with such a beautiful happy smile when I gave it to him. Neither could the woman who was holding him. She started bouncing him up and down in an attempt to end his sudden fascination with me. Eventually, she handed him back to his mother who after noticing his interest in something or someone behind her, followed his line of sight to me. I looked at her and smiled. I think she expected to catch me doing something to encourage his behavior. But, I wasn’t. No coochie-coochie-coos, cutsie winks, funny faces, nothing. Only an occasional smile.
I don’t know what this child saw when he looked at me that made him want to smile. I’d like to think that somehow my smiling face made him happy. I’d like to think that he saw what God sees when He looks at me—my spirit. He wasn’t laughing, just smiling like he was the happiest baby alive. Regardless, I won’t soon forget him.