Last night as I was pulling dinner out of the oven, I got a call from a friend. A friend of hers was in a tight spot: she was at work, her 4-year-old daughter was at day care, her babysitter was unreachable, and the day care was closing. The day care was only two blocks from our place, so as soon as I got off the phone I told the boys to get their coats and shoes on. We were going out.
Fifteen minutes later we were standing in front of the day care. It was dark. No one was answering the buzzer. I called my friend’s friend to see if she knew what was going on/where her daughter might be/if she wanted me to stand there and wait while she called to make sure no one was at the center. She still hadn’t been able to get hold of her sitter and wasn’t sure if she’d picked her daughter up, but she was leaving work to track her down.
The kids and I walked back home, said a prayer for this mom and her little girl, and hoped that it was merely a matter of a phone battery dying at an inconvenient time.
Two hours later I got a text from the mom. It was as we had hoped: the babysitter had lost her phone. She had been running late, but had managed to get the girl. All was well, they were together again.
I breathed a sigh of relief and said a little prayer of thanks – both that the mom and daughter were reunited without incident, but also that I am part of a support system of families who I can call on if I get in a tight spot. I can think of at least half a dozen people I wouldn’t hesitate to call if truly needed them. I know they would drop everything if I asked for help, and that my children would be safe and cared for until I could get there.
That’s such a blessing, and I don’t know if I realized that until last night.