Happy birthday yesterday, Michael!
When this strapping young man (what does "strapping" mean, anyway?) was three years old, I took him with me to an evening Cub Scout meeting at the church house. When he got restless, I asked his older brothers to watch him while I finished my meeting. Afterward, I found my older sons playing in the gym, but didn't see Michael.
When his brothers told me they didn't know where he was, we split up to search the building and church grounds. I became so frantic that I was headed to the phone to call the police when I heard Janice Ray ask, "Is he yours?"
I turned around to see her holding Michael by the hand.
I ran to pick up Michael. Hugging him, I tearfully asked, "Where was he?"
"At my house," Janice said. "I heard the doorbell, and when I opened the door, I couldn't see anyone at first. Then I looked down, and there he was."
Janice lives on Main Street, more than half a block from the church.
Michael remembers walking along the sidewalk, trying to go home, when he saw a house with a "ding-dong bell." Wanting to push the button, he went up onto the porch and pressed it several times.
Janice had the presence of mind to walk him back to the church to see if he belonged to anyone there.
He certainly did.
To this day, they have a special connection. Whenever Michael sees Janice, he says, "There's the lady who saved my life."
Have you ever lost someone, or been lost yourself? What did you do?