One family was comfortable in their home, unaware of the terror they would go through later this evening. I was unaware that Kristin and I would be placed in the middle of it.
The Soccer Game
Thursday evening. April 25th, 2013.
8pm. 65F.
Excitement. Yeah, I guess you could say my feeling is one of excitement. It’s not often I get someone to come out and support me. More like rarely, but I play anyway. I’m in the over-30s “old folks” league, and to be honest, to the outsider, our team is probably not much to look at. Half of us wear at least one or more type of bandage or brace. Me? It depends on the evening. Sometimes it’s the knee, other times it’s the ankle, but I press on. It’s my passion, and tonight, I’m excited that my girlfriend, Kristin, is going to watch. Here she is. It’s time to go.
9pm. 60F.
I love this cool air. It makes me feel as if i could run all evening long. These late games are tough though. I’m always sore the next morning, and being up that late makes it seem impossible to wake up with the alarm clock to go to work. Time to warm up a bit. I don’t want to pull a muscle trying to show off for Kristin.
10:10pm 57F
Whew. Tough game. Who knew there would be such a gap in stamina between your early 30s and mid 30s. I need to run more if I’m going to be able to run more!
The Child
11pm 54F
Kristin and I headed back to my apartment. We decide to talk in my car for a while in the parking lot before she heads home. Yeah, it is getting late, but young, dumb, and in love. We would easily sacrifice a good night’s rest if we could steal away a few more moments with each other. So danced the awkward verbal conversation dance that must be danced if we are to get to know one another. We talk about ourselves and see what lines up and see what common interests we have.
We talk for 20 mins or more and then we hear a noise.
“Hold on. Do you hear that?” I turn off what was already low music. “Is that crying?” “I don’t know. Roll down your window.” I roll down my window, and we both immediately hear it. The sound of the crying child is unmistakable, and it was clear this was the cry of a scared child. Kristin throws her door open, and I throw open mine and we desperately listen for the direction of the cry.
“OH! Little girl! Little girl!” Kristin spotted the child and called for her. “Little girl, come here!” The child ran to Kristin. The upsetting cry of the 2 year old child amplified to the beat of her footsteps, now running as fast as they could go. She was only wearing short sleeve long pajama shirt. No shoes. No socks. And we now saw that she was a he, with a full head of long dark wavy hair. “What’s he doing out here alone? It’s cold out here!”
We got in the car and cranked up the heat. Kristin held the boy close and comforted him. “It’s going to be alright.” Maybe she was comforting us. “It’s going to be alright.”
“I’m calling 911.” I didn’t know what else to do. This boy was clearly lost and alone, no parents in sight. “Would you like some of my water?” Kristin gave the boy a drink of her water, and he guzzled it down. “How long has he been out here?” I thought to myself. I looked around at the storm drains, terrified of what have been.
“Hi, yes. I’m at the apartment complex and my girlfriend and I found a lost 2 year old boy.”
The operator stayed on the line with me for a few minutes until an officer was dispatched and then hung up. Thankfully the boy wasn’t hurt, just scared and cold, but after a few minutes with Kristin, it was mostly just the sniffles you get after crying a bunch.
The Grandparents
“Do you hear that?” “Yeah, I hear someone yelling.” I get out of the car and I see a man in his 60s jogging as best he can and yelling out the boy’s name. I run to meet him. “Are you looking for a boy?” His terrified eyes made way to relief. The weight of losing his grandson to the night lifted. My heart let out a sigh of relief too.
“His grandmother and I are babysitting for our daughter. We forgot to lock the front door and he must have gotten out when we weren’t paying attention.” Since I ran to meet him, we walked and talked back to the car. Kristin got out of the car, the boy clinging to her. She was still warm and comforting. Grandma was now shortly behind.
“Thank you, thank you.” They said to us. Kristin handed the child back to his grandmother and they walked back home.
At The Right Place. At The Right Time.
What are the odds? A 2 year old child, scared and alone becomes lost. At the same time and the same place, two decent people are in a dimly lit parking lot at 11:30 at night. Our church once had a slogan that has forever stuck with me. “On Map. On Mission” It means, that wherever you are, do good. Be light in dark places. Show the love of God to others. Bring the lost home. And so that night, April 25th, 2013, we got the opportunity to live that out.