The baby was screaming. The young mom looked like she was about to break.
She was rocking the carrier with one foot while trying to shovel cold pasta into her mouth with one hand.
She looked exhausted. People at other tables were staring and rolling their eyes.
Then, Ben, the waiter, walked over.
He didn’t ask them to leave.
“May I?” he asked gently.
He picked up the crying baby. He rested the infant on his shoulder and started to bounce.
The crying stopped instantly.
“You eat, Momma,” Ben said. “Use two hands. Enjoy it while it’s hot.”
For 15 minutes, Ben waited tables one-handed, holding the baby while the mom ate her first peaceful meal in months. She cried into her pasta.
“I just needed a break,” she told him.
“We all do,” Ben smiled.
It takes a village. Sometimes the village is a waiter named Ben. 
