The Sparrow

His eye is on the sparrow…and I know He watches over me.

We lost her. In the twinkling of an eye, she vanished. Moments before, my mom and I parted ways, she with the girls and I with a poop-covered Caleb.

“I’m going to go change Caleb’s diaper; I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Okay. I’ll take the girls and go to the play area.”

“All right. See ya in a second.”

The girls raced ahead of Grandma into the mall play area, kicked off their shoes, and began climbing up and over the spongy rocks and animals, sliding down slides, and jumping inside the oversized snake. Grandma seated herself on the usual side of the play area, trying to keep an eye on both girls as they busily ran about the playland. She can barely see Essie’s brown curls bobbing up and down on the other side of the spongy plateau just in front of her. Then suddenly, after turning her head away for just a second, her curly head is gone. She stands up and rushes over to where Essie had been playing just seconds before, frantically looking around for the unmistakable pink tie-dyed dress she had on. No Essie.

“Abby, have you seen Essie?!?”

“No, Grandma. I haven’t seen her,” is the unconcerned reply of my four-year-old.

Now her heart is racing, and she’s hyperventilating. Terror is walking quickly up the back of her neck, her worst fears realized.

Still keeping a careful eye on Abby who is playing blissfully just behind her, she heads ten feet out of the play area in urgent desperation. No pink dress.

She runs back to her purse and quickly digs out her phone, heading back out of the play area.

“Sara, I can’t find Essie!” she mutters in a choked voice.

Knee-deep in Caleb’s blowout, phone anchored between my ear and my shoulder, I stammer, “What?! You can’t find her?!? Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she croaks, “I don’t see her anywhere. I don’t know what to do.” She begins to sob.

I have a few excruciating seconds where I can hear my heart beating in my ears, and I’m hoping I’m in the thick of some horrible nightmare and I’m going to wake up in a second and be thankful it was all a bad dream. Then suddenly my mind snaps me back into the horrific truth of it. I contemplate throwing my naked son and all of the soiled diaper paraphernalia into the stroller and running out to the play area in search of my little girl, but something keeps me from going with this first instinct. So I keep my feet planted firmly on the floor and continue cleaning up my newborn son.

“Mom, I’m changing Caleb. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”

I hang up and immediately think, pray. “Jesus, please help her to find Essie. Help her to find Essie, Jesus.”

My stomach is in knots; I can’t let my mind follow itself down this horrid trail it’s racing.

I immediately think of my husband who’s sitting in a theater just next door. I quickly pick up the phone and call him. Voicemail. Avoiding the urge to swear, I hang up and dial Dad. From his seat next to my husband in Wolverine, Dad picks up.

“Hello.”

“Dad, Mom can’t find Essie, and I’m in the bathroom changing Caleb’s diaper!”

Just then I notice Mom’s calling me again.

“She’s calling again. I gotta go.”

Dad hangs up and looks at Eric, “Esther’s missing. Do you want me to go or --”

Eric immediately leaves his seat and runs to the food court. Nothing is on his mind except to find his missing little girl. As soon as he opens the double doors and rounds the corner to the play area, he sees Essie in Grandma’s arms. Relief pours over him.

“I found her, Sara. She’s with me now,” Mom quickly blurts out as I pick up the other line.

I breathe a sigh of complete and utter relief and tears spring to my eyes, “Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Lord.”

Apparently Esther had walked out of the play area in search of me or my mom, we’re not quite sure. But a kind lady saw the bare-footed escapee, swooped up her little hand, and headed toward the security kiosk. Mom spotted her shortly after hanging up with me the first time and then let her tears give way. The mysterious woman was gone as quickly as she came, and they didn’t even exchange words. She didn’t say, “Is this your little girl?” She silently handed her off to my mom and left.

I feel confident that someday in heaven we’ll meet Essie’s guardian angel and recognize her as the sweet lady who brought her safely back to us today.

The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him,
and he delivers them. Psalm 34:7