Every once in a while my husband would be home on a Saturday morning and I would get the pleasure of going shopping without our handsome little toddler. Those moments of alone time wondering the aisles of the store and contemplating what I wanted to serve for meals over the next week were very precious times of solitude for me. Exactly what a young mom needs to recharge her battery and keep her sanity. This was one of those Saturday mornings.
I was driving back from the town listening to music on the radio and singing along thoroughly enjoying myself and decided to drive down a dirt road I knew well from my paper route as a short cut back home. The dirt road went straight toward home from the main road I was on while the paved road was several miles out of the way and then back again.
Driving this road was bumpy and slower than the main road, but definitely more secluded and enjoyable. I liked the miles and miles of cornfields on both sides broken only by the occasional farm house. There was a pheasant farm and a llama farm down this particular road also.
I’m driving along singing at the top of my lungs when something pops out of the corn field just a little. What was that? It puzzled me. It was small for a deer, low to the ground. I slowed down to about 15 miles per hour and watched that area of the corn field ahead as I drove up next to it.
There it was again, oh my goodness…
There was a toddler a little one who looked like he just started walking not long ago maybe a year old at the most standing between the cornfield and the ditch wearing just his diaper. I slam on the brakes and throw the car into park almost simultaneously as I leap out to grab the little guy before he gets back into the corn field. He’s so small if he makes it back into that cornfield he could be lost forever.
I didn’t want to scare him, but I didn’t want him to get away from me so I was talking as I walked toward him asking where his mommy was. Finally, I swept him up into my arms and he hugged me back. I was thankful that he wasn’t upset by the fact that I was a stranger.
Now, what was I going to do? I didn’t want to put him into my car because I didn’t have the car seat with me and if his mom was looking for him and saw me driving around with him in the car she might think I had kidnapped him or something. So, I began to walk down the long dirt road with corn fields on both sides as far as the eye could see. The eyes thankfully are deceiving though. There was a break in the cornfield about 45 yards up the road from where I found the little guy. So we turned down the long drive. I could not see the farm house because the drive curved but I hoped there was one and that the people who lived there at least knew who the little guy was.
As I rounded the curve, several minutes after I had first swooped up the little guy from the edge of the cornfield, I could see a woman rush from the house and go running straight back to the barn I could barely here her calling something but she was too far away yet to make out what it was. I started to yell “HELLO” and “HELLO THERE”. I kept yelling as I was walking up, she popped out from the barn looked to the left at the cornfield then turned and saw us walking toward her. She ran toward us tears streaming down her face and I knew that he was back where he belonged.
She explained that the phone had rung while he was playing on the porch with his older brother so she thought it was safe to go answer it. The brother was in the barn and told her that the toddler had gone back in so he went to the barn to do his chores. But the little guy went right back out and set off to find his brother or at least that is what we figured. We hoped in her car and she gave me a ride back out to my vehicle.
I went home and installed hooks and eyes on all or our exit doors high enough that only adults could reach as we were also surrounded by cornfields and I thanked the good Lord that he put me on that dirt road that morning. He placed me right where I needed to be at just the right moment so that child in the corn would catch my eye.
