It hit a nerve when I heard that the 8 year old Jewish boy was taken off the streets of Brooklyn on his way home, killed and mutilated. His parents gave in to his
pleading to let him walk home alone from day camp. Maybe they thought that living in a Jewish community of well-respected people was safe enough.
God! Did it bring back memories of " who can I trust."
I remember being on a plane when I was 20, going to an interview with Braniff Airlines back in the day.
Some of the corporate men on the plane were employees of Braniff. They were very talkative and friendly. The young man sitting with me noticed the flight attendant ignoring me. He made her stop and serve me.
When we were almost to Dallas, he suggested that we share a taxi into corporate headquarters. I thought that would be great since I was already scared to death of being alone in a strange city.
But just as the words came out of my mouth, I remembered one of my college friends telling me that she accepted a shared taxi ride with a stranger she had met on a plane and she ended up being raped by him. She said she was too trusting.
Although I had said, "Yes", because this man was very nice and protective of me, I realized that he was also a stranger; and I could not get that thought of my friend's miscalculation of trusting this stranger, out of my mind.
My gut feeling told me that this young man seemed harmless; but my brain told me that I don't really know him and he is starting to take control of my life.
Where would his control end. My friend said that a harmless taxi ride, turned into a harmful detour from her location to his location.
One request turned into another request and she went along with his suggestions, willingly, because she trusted him; although a total stranger she met on the plane.
When we landed, I said that I wasn't going straight to corporate. I would get my own taxi and thanked him for his offer.
By that time, I was very nervous and probably sounded like I was lying.
He became very nervous, too, and somewhat upset; saying repeatedly, "I wasn't going to hurt you!"
Holy Smokes!! Why would he say that?
When I saw his reaction. I realized I was right about not going with him. He was far too upset for just a simple 'decline.'
It was better to be alone and afraid; than to be with a stranger and afraid.
As a young mother, I was constantly evaluating the dangers surrounding my child.
I was overly stressed, peeling my finger and toe nails off, chinese torture style, with worry for my children.
It wasn't until they were grown and in college where I had " no" clue what kind of harm or danger, in which, they put themselves; that my nails started growing out, like a normal human beings.
Practicing on my first born when it came to being alert to possible danger;
it only took me a full year to give her up to a trusted babysitter. She was a mother with two sweet daughters, who worked in my husband's company.
With my second child, I became a "seasoned" patroller. Much like a bird living in the wild, who, unlike the tamed birds, sporadically jerks it's head from one side to the other, looking for possible predators.
The first time I flew with my first born, I found myself sitting with a stranger.
Kristine was probably a year old.
The soft spoken, fatherly type, man sitting with me talked about his family. He was demonstrating how much he loves his children by showing me a wallet full of photos.
It was a long flight and Kristine must have been sitting in my lap as he said I look tired. He
offered to walk down the aisle with her to give me a break.
I thought: where could he go on an airplane? So I agreed.
I watched him walk back and forth with her down the aisle and then they didn't pass by again.
I stood up and turned to look to the back of the plane. There was a line of people standing to get into the bathroom and he was one of them.
I was horrified and tried not to panic. He was the last one in line so I had time to collect my thoughts. Why is he standing in that line? Is he going to ask the flight attendant, standing by the door, to take my child while he goes in, or is he going to pretend to be her dad and take her in with him?
Why am I asking all these questions? I am her mother and she depends on me to keep her safe.
I hurried down the aisle, trying to appear sane and calm.
When I reached him, I said, " Do you have to go to the restroom?"
He said, "Yes."
I said, "I will take her, Now."
My eldest once asked me to let her walk home from school. She was in middle school and her sister was 3 years younger. I knew a stream of children walked that main route.
On a busy suburban street that included a police and fire station, it would be a 2.5 mile walk. Although, no one had ever heard of any kidnappings in our area,
I would say, "It only takes 'one' incident; and I don't want my child to be that one statistic."
I knew the adventurous idea of walking home would not last long when she realized how hot and tired she would be with having to carry her books too; so I relented and let her and her sister walk home with a group of kids.
When Kristine got home she said, " Mom! I saw you following us in the car."
Of course, I won't let them walk home alone.
What happened to that little boy in Brooklyn could have happened to my child if I
had not ruled on the side of caution and my fears. I had often asked myself, " If God gave me another opportunity to have a life without children, would I ?
I often replied, "Yes."
Although I love my daughters, I think God gave me too much responsibility. I spent every, 20 hour, waking moment living a life of a " Nervous Wreck."
I was too afraid of the consequences, if I made a mistake, not minding the store 24/7.
I knew I could not bring a dead child back to life.
I know other mother's didn't worry as much as I did, and for some reason, their child survived, anyway.
I didn't ,even, trust my luck.
Unfortunately, that little boy's parents trusted the community of strangers in which they lived.
They trusted their 8 year old son to know the way home, a great distance of 8 blocks in the city.
The fears I had for my child, came with full force to that boy's parents.
They will grieve and miss their son dearly every moment in every day.
Now God has to take over and care for him.
Trying to keep a child safe from predators is like playing Russian Roulette.
There is a bullet (predator) in the chamber.
It's Your call.
