Yesterday, our small boy Gabriel was lost. Absolutely gone.
I had told him, “No, you cannot come with me today,” and he was devasted…angry…resolute.
His dad called three times in an hour — “Do you have Gabriel?” “Heather, we can’t find him. We’re looking everywhere,” and, finally, “Heather, say a prayer. He’s really gone!”
I pulled to the side of the road, imagining the high-flood creek, bears, cougars, steep creekbanks, a little one asleep somewhere, exhausted from crying.
“Please let us find him!” I pleaded.
In seconds, my cell rang again: “We found him following you. He was a half-mile down the road.”
Relief. Thanks. What ifs.
Even in his beloved, easy-to-stomp-into winter boots, Gabe had followed, determined to walk to where I was.
I am always sobered by the image of a child in my foot tracks. Again, today, a reminder that my path will be desirable to my children because I am on it.
To self: Walk wisely.
