Are Angels Entertaining Us?

I've posted a bit on here and Facebook about the homeless people with whom we come into contact. They are frequent and alternately (and sometimes simultaneously) heart-breaking and entertaining.

We also just see a lot of people by virtue of the fact that we are on a well-worn thoroughfare and people walk past the house to get to Taco Cabana, Chick-fil-A, and Jimmy Johns during the weekday lunch hours.

Lots of people (office workers and the down-and-out) walk by and see Mal, stop, and coo over him for a bit. I feel like he's some sort of cosmic Welcome Wagon that makes everyone feel a little better about their day (see "He's Such a Happy Baby!"), and love sitting out on the front porch with him.

A couple of people have suggested that we occasionally entertain angels, because people will show up, then mysteriously disappear (like in moments, not months like the crochet guy). This makes me laugh sometimes, because typically one of them will show up a few days later, burnt out of his gourd, and the thought of a hammered heavenly being is somewhat amusing to me. Flying, indeed.

One day, a gentleman who wasn't overtly homeless (transient? shelter? just fastidious about his cleanliness?) or professionally-employed stopped and said, "You have a blessin' from God right there." I agreed. Mal smiled at him, and, of course, it made his day. He said, "I have three packets of that..." he gestured, trying to think, "...those things. The wipes. You live here?" I told him that I did. He said, "I'm going to bring you one. I'll leave it on your porch."

I smiled and thanked him, but didn't expect anything.

About a week later, James had gone out to the trash and came back with this.

It made me smile, and it was humbling. Very often, after I talk to the people who walk past, I'm pretty sure they remember none of it. Some of them are in altered states. Some of them just have mental problems. Some are probably too focused on survival to think of me, and our baby, and where we live, and remember to bring us something.

Then, a week or so later, James brought this in from the front porch.

So, for all I know, we now have every single one of this gentleman's wipe collection. Here's something I've learned: Nothing else gets hardening teething biscuit goo off of my child (and table) like these wet wipes! Mal even loves sucking on them (before I catch him), even though they taste like medicine. I guess when you teeth hurt, you're desperate.

Once again, the thought of this man taking the time and effort to give us something when we have no genuine need but he likely does just hit me and made me grateful to God for the grace of his people.

Then, this morning...

Mal wasn't fully awake, but he was soaking wet. I got him up and changed him, then set about the morning tasks. I opened the blinds and saw this:

It's pears, pears and raspberries, sweet potatoes, carrots, and, of course, Jell-o cups. In all honesty, I will probably pass on the Jell-o cups. But the baby food is fully sealed, and it's the good stuff! This one, people, made me cry. I imagine a charity hand-out situation, and this man, thinking of Mal, and grabbing what he can, and passing it along.

This week, my family has seen God's protection and provision in a big way (more on that later), but sometimes the sweetest reminders can be the little things. This is definitely one of them. And maybe the angels are entertaining us.