Code Yellow

My heart is still in my throat as I recall this recent event in our life. Like all thrifty Moms, we made a trip to the mall to catch some of the sales on the 27th. Grandma and Grandpa and Auntie are visiting and wanted to let the kids choose their Christmas treasures (like they need anything else at this point!) and I picked up a few treasures myself. For one of the first mall shopping experiences of my life, the kids were outnumbered by adults and, this being the case, I wasn’t as mindful of my children as I should be. We hit Target first, of course, and as we were exiting Target and entering the mall, that’s when we realized we were missing one of our children. Little E wasn’t with us. I was certain he was just lagging behind and so I waited nonchalantly with everyone in the mall while Mr. Man headed back into Target to fetch the tardy traveler. A few moments later he returned and gave me a look, and in that instant I knew. Our son was missing. Immediately my mind went blank as I tried to recall what clothing we had placed over top of our short-laden boy just minutes before we left home. I was frantically trying to think of where I was certain he had last been with us. My head ached as I pondered over whether he would know to go to one of the red-vested workers and if so, would they understand what he was saying when he told them his name. My heart was heavy and tears sprang as I ran frantically through the store pushing my stroller and shoving my way telling everyone I could that I was looking for my red-haired boy wearing a blue shirt and army pants, hollering his name and heading for the “balls” at the entrance of the store that I know he loves to play on. I was certain he would be there. When he wasn’t I got really worried and with my voice cracking I approached a cashier for assistance. Mr. Man had beat me to it, and a code yellow had already been issued. It seemed that every single worker in that store, God bless them, had left their station to help look for my son. The minutes ticked by and yet time stood still as my precious boy was still missing. Finally I was waved down and told that he had been found… someone had spotted a little boy with a lightsaber (why had I NOT remembered THAT important tidbit) wandering around near the milk department. Apparently he had just walked off and wasn’t even worried in the least, he was exploring. Even in explaining to him what had happened, he was fearless and fine. Eventually he told us that he had lost us and so just kept walking and walking trying to find us. Needless to say, we have had some constant mini safety lessons since then. Mr. Man and I have both decided to keep a picture of our children with their sizes on us at all times, and to pay better attention to what they are wearing each day when we (or they) leave the house. More importantly, I am grateful for our daily family prayers and for the Lord’s watchful eye when I could no longer see my Little E.