Only yesterday we arrived twenty minutes early for church. It was a beautiful day and my husband said he'd walk outside with Joey.
I settled into our usual pew, reading the notices and chatting with the person sitting behind me. The church bells suddenly tolled (a sign things were about get started), then the organ began to play ... a signal that the Minister would soon be walking up the front of the church.
I glanced at the clock on the wall ... three minutes to go! "Where are they?" I thought to myself.
Feeling a sense of panic begin to rise up from the pit of my stomach, I grabbed my bag and darted out of the building, walking briskly around the church yard ... no husband, no little boy.
I ran to our car - thinking they may have gone to get something. The latecomers must have seen the look of horror on my panicked face. I didn't even notice them.
The 'fight or flight' syndrome was beginning to kick in and thoughts were racing through my mind ... "My husband and Joey must have been walking along the footpath and Joey has darted away from the grip of hubby's hand and been hit by a car. Daddy can't leave him to tell me what has happened .... (on and on my thoughts raced).
I told the caretaker of our church, and he too began to search, and THEN suddenly round the corner (as I was racing up the street) I see a little boy in a bright orange jacket being carried in the arms of his Dad.
Papa was holding what looked like a poster under his arm.
I ran up to them exclaiming how I had been given such a fright, that I didn't know where they were. Daddy was not too impressed.
By mid-afternoon I had recovered, and that evening Daddy showed me what I thought was a poster he'd bought ... it was a rolled up sketch of little Joey. They had been wandering downtown and were stopped by an artist wanting to draw my son. MEN! ... or should I say Amen! (so be it - all is well!)
PS Please visit this page again, as I will upload the artist's whimsical drawing
Oh my! Glad everything turned out!
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