The little boy stood all alone, his mouth trembling while he sucked on the edge of his hand. I was sitting on a bench at the Corte Madera Village Mall and saw him from across the way. I guessed he was about three or four years old. As I scanned the surrounding area, I didn’t see an adult that looked to be responsible for him. Moving closer, I heard his tiny whimpering and noticed his body seemed to be slightly shaking.
“Are you OK, honey?” I softly asked, leaning down to talk to him.
He looked up at me, and his large blue eyes started to drop the tears that had been hanging on the edge. He didn’t say a word.
“What’s your name sweetie?” Again he didn’t say anything. “Did you lose your mommy?”
He nodded yes, so I again asked him his name. When he spoke, it was through the hand that he still had near his mouth, and I couldn’t understand what he said. I rubbed my hand on his back to comfort him and told him everything was going be fine. We’d find his mom.
We waited a few minutes together while I ran the options through my mind. I thought the mall had a concierge office somewhere in the middle, which I assumed must also be where I could reach security or lost and found.
Just as we started to move in that direction, I saw his frantic mother racing toward us calling out his name.
“Hayden, Hayden, are you OK?”
She squeezed him hard, tears of relief rolling down her cheeks.
Oh, I know that feeling. I lost my son Jack twice when he was really little. The first time we were at Harrods, that giant department store in London, during the holiday season. Anna was six months old, and I was carrying her in a Baby Bjorn front pack. Jack had just turned two, an age where he no longer liked to sit in his stroller while he was awake. I was with a girlfriend who suggested she take a turn holding the baby. So we stopped to re-adjust.
Dropping the shopping bags into the stroller, stuffing the coats and baby accoutrements into the basket at the bottom, I then handed over the baby and pack. It took only a minute or two to make the switch and get the baby comfortable again, but then I looked down and Jack was gone.
“Oh my god, wait here,” I said. I dropped to my hands and knees to quickly scan under the clothing racks, but didn’t see him. Racing between the maze of racks, holiday shoppers, and over loaded stacked product displays, I started calling his name. Feeling panic rising in me, I shouted loudly, “I’ve lost my son, help me, Jack where are you.”
It had all happened so fast. Now which way should I run to find him? I scurried around trying to cover every open spot as quickly as I could. There were too many people and too much stuff, how could this happen? Where could he be? My mind was racing faster than my body.
For three or four minutes, which seemed like forever, I had a fear I had never experienced before. Then up ahead, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my little boy about to get into an elevator with a throng of people moving towards it.
As if in slow motion I yelled, “Stop, help, that’s my baby, Jack!”
I caught up just in time. The elevator doors hadn’t yet closed as I reached in to grab him out. Squeezing him hard, relief poured through me. The crowd seemed to pause, all eyes on Jack and me. “I was so scared Jack, thank God you’re safe, are you OK?”
He, of course, was oblivious to what had just transpired over the last few minutes. He hadn’t yet noticed that I had been gone. All he seemed to be aware of was that he was roaming free and enjoying it.
Me on the other hand, I had just expended the last of my reserves in panic mode and now I was done. Get me out of here. Take me home. I never want to experience that again.
Luckily it all turned out well, as it did for little Hayden and his mom. But I wish that on no one. I often think what would have happened if those elevator doors had closed…
Do you have a lost kid story with a happy ending?
Photo by infomofo.
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Once we were at a birthday party at Fairy Land in Oakland. We were trading off kids but at once point we both looked at each other and neither of us had Eric. I was totally panicked searching all of the little moats in fear, but Bill just said “I’ll be right back.” He found Eric waiting in line at the merry-go-round where he was about to get on with another family. We had told him earlier he couldn’t go on alone because he wasn’t old enough. He was not lost-he knew exactly where he was!