st. anthony

*St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come around....something's been lost and can't be found....*


I was walking through a crowded nursery yesterday when one of the nurses was asking a student if she would not mind feeding a baby? The student hesitated as she had another patient she had to look after so I volunteered.

It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it.

I held this little one and as I rocked and fed him, looked at his features: he was perfect (as are all babies, really) and had this beautiful little face with a tiny nose and black hair, barely a wisp, forming a swirl on the top of his head. I asked the nurse if I should take him back to his mother when I am finished?

"He's on a DYFS hold."

"What does that mean?"

"His mother is a crack- and alcohol-addicted prostitute that has three children in foster care already. She was going to place this one up for adoption but decided at the last minute to 'go to rehab and get it together so I can get him back,' and was discharged yesterday to go back to the rescue mission. He stays with us until DYFS can find a suitable foster home for him."

(The baby tested positive for cocaine, but cocaine is actually one of the drugs that babies do not withdraw too badly from, if you can imagine that, so he was in pretty decent shape physically.)

I was stricken and for the balance of the day, I was his personal attendant. When all my work was caught up, I was the feeder, changer, rocker, nurturer, pray-er.

*....something's been lost and can't be found....*

Lord, have mercy.