I heard those words last week and it made my heart hurt.
On the way home from "up north", we stopped at a rest stop on the Kansas turnpike for gas, restroom, and food.
While I was waiting for our food, I noticed a boy about 9 years old talking to Matthew. Matt had an odd look on his face so I wandered over to see what was up.
"I can't find my parents."
Matt offered his phone to call them. The boy started giving the phone number and I asked him what the area code was. He didn't know. I asked him where he was from and he said Kansas City. I know the Wichita area code, but not so much Kansas City. Then he told me they didn't have a cell phone.
I asked him what kind of car they were in. He told me a minivan. What kind? He didn't know. It was green and had a Carmax tag on the front. Were they getting gas? No, just stopped to use the restroom. I had him make another lap around the outside of the building to double check and he still couldn't find them.
I took the boy to the gas station side of the rest stop and told the manager what was going on. She sat him down behind the counter with her to wait.
We got our food and started to leave, but my heart was so going out to this boy, I had to go back and check on him.
He was still sitting there.
I asked him if he was headed home or somewhere else. He said they were headed home. I told the manager to call the Highway Patrol and let them know what was going on. She said okay and as I left, she was taking down his name and address (which he didn't know).
Parents, please count your kids before driving off. Have them learn the make of your car. Write it down and stick it in their pockets when you travel. Anything to help them if they are lost.
I don't want my heart hurting again.