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 glee.

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?" Erik continued to laugh and answer, "Hi, hi there." 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 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'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."

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."

Author Unknown

Go now to http://fantasy.premierleague.com and enter with your last years registered name. For those who are new, please register a new team. I will make sure the global buzz league is up and running and lets get ready to rumble..........

So who will be the first to give their review on the book here ............

Cecile Cilliers

ue:Was vir die eerste keer in twee jaar weer in die Krugerwildtuin, en het soos altyd, tuisgekom. Asof ek nooit weg was nie. Elke boom, elke bos, elke draai in die pad so bekend soos gister. En eergister. En al daardie vervloë jare se wildtuinbesoeke saam met John en die kinders.

Hierdie keer was dit saam met Sus Polla se kinders, wat die tante saamgenooi het op 'n onvergeetlike besoek. Want my kinders is gëinteresseerd in die veld en in die diere, maar kla dat die jongste te graag stilhou vir mossies, en dat hulle ma ure lank 'n boom kan probeer identifiseer.

Maar ander mense se kinders, al is dit 'n suster s'n, is beleefder teenoor jou as jou eie, en veins 'n vleiende belangstelling in die tante se opgewonde herkenning van appelblaar en huilboom, rooiboswilg en sambokpeul, en staar bewonderend as ek ook die Latynse name onthou.

Van my kant, al is ek geen twitcher soos Neels Jackson nou die dag die geesdriftiges beskryf het nie, deel ek Pieter en Clara se belangstelling in voëls, en saam (baie klein, my aandeel), het ons in die kort tydjie in die Laeveld 106 soorte gëidentifiseer.

En dis meer as die Hollandse omies s'n, sê Pieter trots.
Die Hollandse omies was 'n groep ouer mans wat twee-jaarliks wildtuin toe gaan met die spesifieke doel om hulle somer- en winterrekord van voëlherkenning te probeer verbeter. En met hierdie winterbesoek nie naby ons 106 kon haal nie.

Ons het hierdie groep voëlkykers in die voëlskuilte by Sweni teëgekom, en alhoewel bëindruk met hulle kennis, tog gegiggel omdat hulle bly verwys het na die LBG's, waarvan hulle te min kennis dra, bieg hulle, in plaas van die LBJ's oftewel Little Brown Jobs. LBG staan seker vir Little Brown Goetertjies, sê 'n niggie stuitig.

Hoeveel wild het julle gesien, word daar in die kafees, by die piekniekplekke gevra, die vraag gewoonlik gerig deur besoekers wat min geduld het met staar en staar met die verkyker totdat jy die kanarie of wyfievink of wat ook al korrek kan identifiseer. (Teen die tyd dat jy agterkom wat dit is is, het swaer Piet altyd spottend gesê, het die spesie al uitgesterf!)

"But did you see a kill? I wish I could see a kill," hoor ek in die winkel.
Toe vertel ek nie van die lawaai van die bobbejane buite Onder-Sabie se tentkamp toe 'n luiperd onder die trop ingevlieg het nie. Nee, ek deel dit nie, want ons kon net hóór, nie sien nie.

Maar ek reageer nogtans geesdriftig op die vraag: Twee keer, sê ek, ons het twee keer gesien hoedat daar gevang word.

By die Vervoerdam het ons 'n vleiloerie beskou (hoe mooi die swart en bruin en wit, hoe wreed gekrom die snawel), waar hy 'n padda uit die vlak watertjies opraap om oomblikke later sy prooi verwoed teen 'n venynige janfiskaal te moet beskerm.

En juis by die Sweni-water het 'n rooireier minute lank sy nek ver, vér oor die water uitgestrek: lyf, nek en kop in een strak lyn, om plotseling toe te slaan en 'n vet vis uit die water te haal. Dwars vasgevang in die skerp snawel flap die vis wanhopig, en vir meer as 'n halfuur kyk ons vasgenael deur die verkykers hoedat die reier sy prooi geduldig maneuvreer om dit eindelik triomfantelik (maar bitter stadig) kop eerste af te wurg.

Twee merkwaardige vangste, sê ek. ue: ue:

If your children are keen readers, please let us know their age group, so that we know what ages to regularly post recommendations for ! Thanks.

My daughter is a book worm and is very comfortable reading anything from Enid Blyton and of course Harry Potter to Ancient Greeks and Egyptians.

What do your children read?

This says it all...

Time passes.
Life happens.
Distance separates.
Children grow up.
Love waxes and wanes.
Hearts break.
Careers end.
Jobs come and go.
Parents die.
Colleagues forget favors.
Men don't call when they say they will.
BUT..........

Girlfriends are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you

A girlfriend is never farther away than needing her can reach

When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it for yourself, your girlfriends will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley's end. Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you. Or come in and carry you out.

Daughters, Daughter-in-laws, sisters, sisters-in-law, mother, mother-in-law, aunties, nieces, cousins, extended family, and friends bless our life!

The world wouldn't be the same without them, and neither would I.

When we began this adventure called womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other.

Every day, we need each other still.

The popular catch up thread is back

I'll alternate between trivia and fact or fiction questions till they run out and we're up to date

Let's start with a trivia question...

What is the very last word in the Declaration of Independence?

More here...

Thanks Jack for all the good memories and fantatsic play ok:

Jack has just walked the Swilken Bridge and waved his good bye's.

Commentators reckon it was the best reception EVER by players and spectators for any golfer !

To top it all he made a birdie on the last hole ok:

Cheers Jack and thanks again.