I wasn't going to go to the library yesterday. We popped in on the way home from somewhere else. As we got ready to head home again, I was buckling up car seats when I noticed a little boy, only a year or so old, running alone. He gleefully ducked in to some buses and hid. He giggled at his cleverness. I assumed he was playing a game with someone. I started reversing as he jumped up again and started running further away and hid in a bigger bush, but no one else seemed to be playing. I drove past slowly and couldn't see any adults. I found the nearest park.
Across the car park I spotted a mother frantically looking for her son, calling out, questioning strangers. I recognised her raising panic instantly and called out. How quickly your fears grown when your child has left your sight in public. How awful it is when you can't find them. I called out and pointed. She ran to me as I chatted to the boy in the bush. She ran to the other side, perhaps hoping I'd flush him out, but the cheeky monkey ran out between us. I ran after him and with luck he tripped and fell just a foot from the road. His mother swept him up with a flood of relief as she recalled his sudden disappearance, her car wide open with her handbag on the seat, her thanks.
I'm glad we went to the library yesterday.
Sometimes you are just in the right place at the right time.