“Yes, I’m well aware of what you’re talking about, but with this rain, there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it today…”
I can’t help overhear as the tall, middle aged gentleman speaks assertively into his cell phone. Turning sideways, I attempt to squeeze past him; he smiles and releases the door to my grasp. As I enter I look back and see him zigzag across the empty patio, still absorbed in conversation.
Once I’m in the restaurant, I notice he’s caught the attention of several others. Although animated cell phone conversations are common today, it can still be entertaining to watch otherwise completely rational people carry on dramatic conversations with no one in sight.
The amusement of the other customers tickles me as they watch him gesture grandly to no one in particular. The fingers of his free hand flutter to the motion of rain falling on the just and the unjust. We’ve all witnessed this scenario, haven’t we—people animated and conjecturing to no one in particular? It’s become the new normal.
Soon, he steps into the restaurant; concluding his conversation well over the din of the others, “Look! I promise we’ll do our best to get someone over there as soon as it dries up a little.”
Sighing deeply, he pockets his phone. I fully expect his tiny audience to break into applause… but we don’t. Instead we honor his dignity (and ours) by glancing in every direction but his.
Turns out, I was seated at the table next to his wife who was busy with an adorable two year old, probably their grandson. His curly hair decorates his cherubic head, like blond ornaments on a frosted tree. He chatters on contentedly, firing questions to “Pop-Pop” and “Gran” even as they discuss their construction business.
It slowly occurs to me this rainy day has perhaps changed their plans—instead of the office and work, their son or daughter realized they may be available for babysitting duty. Been there, done that!
I admit, I eavesdropped, straining to hear their whispered conversation. I listen as he explains to his wife-slash-business-partner why their customer is so upset and how he hoped to resolve the situation. And all the while, the child relentlessly tugs on Pop-Pop’s arm firing one question after another. His persistence is remarkable, never seeming to become impatient with his grandfather.
Then it happens: Pop-Pop turns his focus from his problems to his grandson and the transformation was measurable! As though transported to a different world, his troubles dissipate into hugs and his countenance changes from worry to wonder.
I can’t decide which is cuter—the curly haired, Dutch-speaking toddler or his proud grandparents, who coo over his every word… I think they are words. Pop-Pop and Gran seem to have the gift of interpretation of tongues, or at least they pretend to. He is incredibly handsome and obviously delighted to be here… a naiveté I wish I could imitate. He is wide eyed with excitement as he attempts to process the strange sounds of a coffee steamer, its obnoxious hiss rising above everyone’s conversation, or the grating roar of a blender. Sounds disruptive and completely uninteresting to us adults, but to this youngster they are causes for utter amazement.
I reflect on the range of emotion the gentleman must be experiencing, from stress induced by an unhappy customer to the heart melting (and heart mending) adoration of his grandson. I watch him transition from a lightning rod for stress to a sponge for joy as he turns to his grandson.
It reminds me how the Bible tells us that because of God’s Son, the Savior, we can, like the little towhead, crawl up on His lap and say, “Abba, Daddy.” God deeply desires to interact with us. This doesn’t result in God’s transformation, but ours.
Paul, writing to the church in Rome, reminds all of us,
This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid…life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?” Romans 8:15 The Message
I watch appreciatively while the threesome gather their belongings. As Pop-Pop bends over to lovingly zip the little man’s jacket, I just happened to overhear him whisper to his miniature stress reliever, “What-say we go home and bake some cookies?”
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com.