Lost and Found
The following story was written about 5 years ago. It was a nice coincidence to find it again as the sentiments expressed in it still resonate with me. It’s also a good message for any parent feeling overwhelmed with little kids.
Nine years ago I had my first child. I never thought I would have children, I did in fact think I didn’t want to have children; after all, they are a lot of work and responsibility. I wasn’t prepared for the joy and the love I have for my children. How nice to be proven wrong! My husband and I were so inspired by our first child that we decided to have a second child who is now four. I would not say that prior to having kids, I didn’t notice other children, but I certainly would agree that becoming a mother has made me very present to small children. I love watching children play at the park or work in their classrooms. They instill hope and joy in a world that so often appears hopeless and joyless.
It is because I have kids that I so appreciate the fear associated with losing them. Every parent has had that experience where their heart has stopped beating because they couldn’t see their child in a sea of denim and polyester. I have had my share of those moments as well. A few weeks ago though, I had an experience that woke me to the importance of being present with my children.
I was driving down a busy road thinking about my morning. It hadn’t been the best morning and I was feeling a little down. I had also been thinking about stopping for something to eat, when I suddenly noticed a small child heading toward me on the sidewalk. He was on a bike that had training wheels and from my vantagepoint in the car, didn’t look to be more than 3 or 4. I immediately began scanning the horizon for a grown-up accompanying the little boy and didn’t see anyone.
I quickly turned into a parking lot and approached the little boy hoping that an adult had simply turned their back and would look up and see me talking to the little boy. I had hoped to slow him down in case someone was around and just became distracted. No one approached me or began shouting at the little boy. Without hesitation, I asked him if he was hungry; he said yes and he easily came with me. I asked him to wait a minute as I called the police. The dispatcher told me they would be sending someone out: all the while, I scanned the area looking for someone who belonged with this little boy. I took him inside and ordered something to eat. He didn’t speak very clearly so it was hard to get information from him.
An undercover policewoman happened to be in the restaurant at the same time and heard the call over her radio so she came over to talk to the little boy. We found out that he was two years old. I couldn’t believe it. I also had continued scanning the area for anyone who appeared to be looking for someone, hoping in my heart that someone knew by now that he was missing.
We sat down and waited for the officer to arrive. As we did, we played color games and I looked down thinking how sad that someone didn’t realize what a gift they had in this little boy. The officer soon arrived and then another when they discovered that they needed a car seat. Soon it was time to go and Michael began to get scared. He started to cry saying he wanted his mommy. I tried consoling him and kept telling him it would be ok. Once outside, he got back on his bicycle determined to keep going to wherever he was headed when I intercepted him. Even as my heart broke seeing him so scared, I knew he was safer in a car seat than out on a busy street with no helmet, all alone. I picked him up and placed him in the car seat while he cried and fought against me. I said goodbye and asked the officer to call me later so that I knew how things turned out. He assured me he would.
As I drove home, I cried. I felt so scared for Michael. He was so small and seemed so vulnerable. I had acted out of instinct and compassion. Had I not stopped, I am certain I would have thought about that little boy for weeks, “Did he ever find his mom?” “Did anyone hurt him?” I also thought about all the children who go missing and I was so glad that I stopped.
About two hours later the police officer called to tell me that Michael’s mom had called the station looking for her son about an hour after they picked him up. I hoped that she merely got busy and lost sight of him and that this was a one time incident. I didn’t feel judgment as much as I felt a sense of gratitude that I had stopped. Parenting is difficult, there is no doubt about that. I was reminded once again of how little time we have to spend with our children and whatever seems urgent or pressing at that crucial moment can wait until I can safely do whatever it is I need to do.
The experience had a profound effect on me. It made me view my own children in a different way. I also looked for signs of inconsistency in myself. How many times a day do I leave my children unattended while I try to do something else? How many times a day do I say, “One more minute” as they try to tell me something? Life is so precious and short and at the end of the day, it is the lasting memories of time spent together that really matter, not how clean my house is or how many things I’ve checked off of my “to do” list. Those things are important and valuable, and can wait until my children are safe and out of harm’s way.