The biker dude scowled at me as I sat next to him. He seemed life-beaten and harsh. To be honest, I felt pretty intimidated by him. Yet, within ten minutes together, something triggered his gentle side. This trigger is available to all of us.
In his biker-dude outfit; leather jacket, tough-soled shoes and messy helmet-hair, he watched me play with my one-year-old grandson. I sat on the sofa keeping an eye on the baby as he practiced his newly found skill of walking – he would venture as far as his courage would take him then turn around and run back into my arms. All the while the biker-dude watched out of the corner of his eye. At one point he got up, fetched himself some coffee and went and stood a few feet away. My grandson followed and stared up at him as only young children can. Then, for no apparent reason, the little one cracked a huge smile. Biker-dude caved. “Darn cute kid,” he said, bent down and cooed, “Hello, buddy.”
There’s something about the tenderness of babies that we all understand and, no matter how tough we become, we intuitively respond with gentleness. We touch them softly, we speak in kind tones and we are protective toward them, eager to look out for their good. We see their immeasurable value and treat them carefully.