A few weeks ago I was grocery shopping with the hubby at our favorite store and I experienced something I have never felt before. I was off getting something a few aisles away from my spouse and suddenly realized there was a commotion going on nearby. A 3 yr old boy was screaming and crying while seated in the grocery cart, and a woman, about 28 years old or so was trying to calm him. It wasn't working so she took him out of the seat and set him on the floor after trying to hold him because he was struggling against it. Now I have a full view of this and was close enough to hear some of what she said and she told him this, 'If you don't be calm, you won't see your mother tonight' How terrible! And that's when it started to do something to me. Just a little bit. What really did a number on me was when she went to take the purple onion (yes a softball sized onion) from him. He had scooped this onion up when she took him out of the cart and had been clutching this thing to his chest all the while.

So she reached down to take it, he hung onto it, she grabbed the onion with both hands and with much difficulty, pulled it away from his grasp. Oh man, this was the worst, for the little guy and me, he started to scream even louder and she gripped the onion, he went up on his tippy-toes, arms stretching upward, trying to retain possession of what he thought was his. So what about me? At the point he went up on his toes, the tears started to well up and my throat tightened, and feelings of loss swept over me as I watched it all. I KNEW what that little boy was feeling, the terror and fear I felt in that few moments caught me by surprise and I had to quickly walk away to stop a full flood of tears right there in the store. I think my hubby realized something was wrong by the look on his face, but he didn't ask thankfully, as I would have cried for sure.

Later I thought about the thoughts that ran through my mind as I watched this unfold, and was even surprised about those. I had wanted to gather that little boy up in my arms and tell him he was loved and that he was OK.

About a week after this happened, I told my supervisor about it and had to close the door of her office because I knew, just knew, there would be a full release of my grief for this little boy. Though in hindsight, as I talked with her, I realized I was not grieving for the boy, but for myself. That little boy allowed me to be the little girl for a moment in time, and cry with him. It will never be forgotten.