A couple of summers ago, during our family beach getaway, I found myself tasked with the all-important snooze duty. My husband would whisk our now-non-napping daughter off for a grand Adventure with Daddy, while I nestled down with my 3-year-old son. This routine was a win-win, especially for me, as my new job had left me so drained that a daily two-hour nap felt like a luxury.
But then came the fateful day when my son decided to skip his nap altogether. And I, blissfully unaware, drifted off.
In a twist worthy of a children’s story, my son managed to unlock the bedroom door (which was secured for a reason) and ventured downstairs. Assuming our family had made a trip to the pool, he opened the door to the outside world and set off on a quest to find his dad and sister.
In my mind, this could be spun into a delightful tale of adventure: a little boy, pacifier in mouth, clad in superhero underpants and a T-shirt, with his floppy brown bunny in tow. However, in reality, this scenario was a parent’s worst nightmare. The moment he slipped out of my sight, my imagination ran wild with dark thoughts of abductions and worse. You can argue that such incidents are rare, but we all know they occur.
I awoke to my son bursting back into the bedroom, terrified. While I hadn’t felt his absence, the frantic words tumbling from his lips—“downstairs,” “stranger,” “couldn’t find you”—left me bewildered and worried for those few moments. My mind raced through horrifying scenarios, but as I held him close and tried to get dressed, the pieces began to fall into place.
What really happened? Essentially, nothing. He was not abducted by a maniac.
Instead, he was found by a kind-hearted mother of two boys, who had also attempted to venture out on their own. When we finally spotted her at the pool, she was joyfully splashing around with her family, blissfully unaware that she had just saved my son—and me.
I owe her a debt of gratitude that feels impossible to repay. Moments before, she had spotted my son, alone with only his bunny, outside the pool gate, crying because he couldn’t find his family. So, she took his little hand and walked him through the condo community, checking door by door until he recognized ours. Once he found his rain boots inside, she waited to ensure he reunited with me before slipping away.
She didn’t judge or berate me for my parenting choices. Instead, she simply helped. That day, she embodied grace—an easy-going mom willing to lend a hand in a moment of need. I fondly referred to her as “the perfect person” for the job, but she was more than that; she represented the safety net we often think has vanished.
Interestingly, our friends who were visiting during this incident are some of the most laid-back parents we know. They have older kids, which makes them seem like parenting gurus. When I recounted my story, one of them remarked, “Ninety-nine percent of people who could have found him would be ‘the perfect person.’” Most folks would step in to help a lost child—and in this situation, very few would think otherwise.
A few months later, a friend—a teacher and mom—shared her experience of driving to work and spotting a young boy walking alone along a busy street. He had a backpack and was clearly on his way to school, but something felt off. Despite her belief in the importance of fostering independence in children, she hesitated, torn about intervening. Ultimately, she kept driving, trusting that the next person to see him would take over the responsibility of ensuring his safety.
Is this the safety net we’ve lost faith in? A relay of compassionate individuals ensuring the well-being of children in our communities?
This article was originally published on November 5, 2012. If you’re interested in more parenting tips, check out our other blog posts, like this one on pregnancy and home insemination, which can be found here. For more resources on pregnancy, visit CDC’s excellent information.
In summary, parenting in an anxious age can feel overwhelming, but there are still countless good people willing to lend a hand. Whether it’s a neighbor or a stranger, the community support is there, even when we least expect it. Remember, no one is perfect, but there are plenty of “perfect people” ready to help out when we need it most.