Gerry Gutierrez' Update

A whimsical report and greetings to you
for MotherŐs Day.

How was my motherŐs day?

"My potentially bitter sweet day" became a ŇGooderÓ than Yesterday Day.

After a sleepless night worse than the night before, I got ready to take my oldest son's family to Atlanta for Mother's Day to the Oriental Pearl Restaurant in Chinatown.

Soon I found out that Janet, my daughter in law, had cancelled the appointment due to previous commitments beyond her control. In stead, they invited me for a hamburger cook out at 12:30 pm. I was at her door at 12:29 pm only to find out that no one was home. Shortly after that, they arrived and their plans had changed again and they preferred to go to another restaurant.

Due to my dietary restrictions I was led to believe that it may be best not to infringe on their family plans. After I delivered the Mother's Day present I went to pick up my prescription medicines that were sitting at Walmart for two days. (There is a point on this story; please bare with me without rolling your eyes backwards like Anderson Cooper).

The pharmacy was close for lunch until 2:00pm. Without breakfast and my sugar level going down, I was increasingly getting miserabe. Another hiccup, a trouble developed with my prescription and more delay made the "Big green  (?) Question mark" over my head bigger.

By the time I got to the restaurant it was 3:00 pm I was coming apart for the lack of food. The girl at the door asked me: How many Sir? Just the three of us - I said, me, myself and I. With a smile she led me to a window seat with a view of some beautiful babies in two different tables a prudent distance from me.

As much as I enjoyed those babies I just could not understand why there were no waiters coming to take my order. I was prime time ready for a glass of self-pity and I call for the manager.

I said to him with a well-rehearsed seventy-year-old "paternal attitude".

I am not a mother but I am diabetic without breakfast and your restaurant has more waiters than clients at this hour but no one has come to take my order.

(Boy, I had him where I wanted him).

With the proper standard apologies he sped up the process and brought me immediately a shrimp habanero appetizer with ice water and lemon.

After my meal I was getting ready to go and bless the little baby with both sets of grandparents. I ask the waiter for my "check".

He said with a big smile, no charge for you today Sir. Your dinner is on us.

Upps!! He did it again!!

Not totally surprised but thankful I said to my waiter "Watch this".

I proceeded to go to the table of the family with the baby and introduced myself as one who just want to thank the mother for bringing that beautiful baby into the world and given us the pleasure to enjoy her with her goo-goo's and laughter.

"You are like Mary the mother of Jesus, I said to her, who made the invisible God visible by bring a child into the world." "In the same way you have made our God visible by this child who bears his image."

At my age you enjoy freedoms unknown and have also the sense if you are wasting your words or are touching hearts. The joyful tear of the mother and the proud papa loosing the buttons of his shirt, gave me the boldness to ask him if he would allow me to bless the little child in the name of Jesus?

(I brag a little of being a missionary and having seven children and fourteen grandchildren.)

I have yet to find a father who does not want to shake my hands in approval.

Then I laid my hands on the little one and pray a brief prayer of blessing and well wishes in the name of the Father, in the name of the Son and in the name of the Holy Spirit.

By then the mother is beside herself full of joy. It is then that I usually leave the mother with a charge to remind the baby throughout life of what happened that day.

I left the restaurant with instant friends full of gratitude whose names I do not know with the exception of the child's first name; neither do they know my name. I like it this way; it is my way to lift the name of Jesus.

"My potentially bitter sweet day" turned out to be as usual "gooder" than the day before. I miss my mama, my wife, my daughters and family but I am not alone.

Strengthened by the prayers of the faithful and loyal friends from among the elect, I feel like a weak toddler, but at the same time I feel like the biceps of God.

Thank you for writing, asking about me and being a friend.

Gerry Gutierrez

PS. I love mothers. God made a covenant with Eve to make her the transporter of his seed from Genesis to Christmas and unto revelation and the second coming. Sperm banks may replace men, but women are indispensable. Jesus is known as the seed of the women, because no man had part in his conception. Men can be as blessed as women if he make Jesus visible to our blind generation.