Alone

My street ends in a'T' inter- section. The crossing street borders a school with a nice little playground. Yesterday morning, as I was headed to a meeting, I saw a little boy on that playground. He couldn't have been more than three years old. He was having a great time on the jungle gym, climbing and sliding, and jumping, in the pure joy so few of us non-three-year-olds rarely experience.

He was completely alone.

I went immediately into Daddy mode. Where are his parents? Why is he alone? Who was supposed to be watching him?

I turned the corner and watched for traffic, a place to park, the little boy, and any signs of a parent, all at the same time. By now, he had slid down the slide, and was laughing and loving life so much that he had to jump up and down in joy. I saw him look for someone, someone who he assumed was there to share that joy, someone...

No one.

He looked this way and that, turning, turning, panic visibly rising as he suddenly realized he was completely alone.

I slowed to a crawl.

But suddenly, from behind a wall--surprise! Daddy and big sister came out of hiding.

I continued on my way, relieved that the boy was safe.

But wondering, at the same time.

Because I remember. I remember one time in a department store, stomping through it and looking at all the wonderful bright Christmas decorations, seeing things that looked so pretty and bright and I wanted it and...

No parents. My folks let me wander off alone, following me, seeing how long it would be before I realized that I wasn't with them any more. But there was a moment of panic. Of dread. Of the sudden realization that I was alone.

How long it lasted, I have no way of measuring. In my mind, it was hours. It was more likely seconds. They wanted me to learn a lesson. I was about three.

Is this cruelty? Is this appropriate? Is three too soon to learn the lesson that you have to be aware of your surroundings?

And is there a better way of teaching this lesson?

yeharr