moves but I can’t hear his words. I stare out, don’t trust
what I see. His little body shivers. I can’t guess how long
he has been there.
He hugs his arms in closer to his body and I hear the sobs.He looks about three years old. Though I am not fully
awake at 6 a.m., I am filled with fear. I worry about the little
one this Easter morn out in the cold with no clothes, and there
were the tears. I worried for me, I couldn’t help myself. Was
this a set up? Would someone rush me when I opened the door?
Who would leave a little boy out in the cold and dark?
I call the police first after I tell the little boy to stay there.I call the police first, then open the door to this precious one.
I bring him in and hug his little, shivery body close to mine
until I can grab a soft blue blanket from the TV room to bundle
him in. I sit him on the couch as I assure him
everything will be OK. Where do you live? In this house
he says. Where is your mommy and daddy? They aren’t home.
I waked up and they aren’t home, he cried. I poured him
orange juice. He said his mommy was dead. I cried with him
and worried more. I wondered what he had seen, what he meant.
I pick up Lexi-dawg and introduce them. The boy smiles
was probably minutes. I open the door when I see flashing lights.
for the first time. The police take forever it seems but It
A man jumps from the car and I knew he was the father.
I know that look, the look of shock and absolute fear
when your child is gone. I knew so much in that one
look. D.J., the little boy, wraps lanky arms and legs around
his dad and says I was scared, daddy. It was dark
and you weren’t there.
My Easter blessing came early morning. D.J. is a neighborIn my new neighborhood. The police want to take the man’s
Information. You aren’t in trouble, the officer tells him,
but we have to have the information. The father keeps
thanking me. I didn’t tell him I called the police before
I opened the door to his three year old. I didn’t say,
thought of me first.