The Week Off, part 4.5

So as I said in my last post, the parade had just ended and all the spectators began to fill up the middle pathway that moments before had been cleared and roped off. Phil walked in between the benches lining the parade route toward our kids who had all gone forward to chase after the bubbles that were still coming down. Our stroller was next to me so I began pushing it but stayed behind the row of benches since there were less people to have to maneuver around. It wasn’t very crowded at the park that day, but everyone who was there were all at the same place at the same time for the parade. Or so it seemed. Phil and I started to get separated from each other so he called across to me to meet at the Ariel ride. I nodded and headed over there to park our stroller and then rejoin my family. I assumed all of our kids were with him.

Turns out, he had assumed one of them was with me.

She wasn’t.

I saw Phil and our kids minus one standing at the entrance of the Ariel ride. As soon as he saw me, Phil called, “Where’s Allie?” “I thought she was with you!” I answered. With that, Phil took off running back the way we came calling out Allie’s name with increasing alarm in his voice. I was stunned into disbelief. Allie? Of all our kids, Allie is lost? What? Not possible. The one we call “Little Mama” because she takes such good care of her younger siblings, the one who listens so well, the one who has always known to stay close to us? Allie?!

I picked up Jonah because we certainly didn’t need him wandering off while we were trying to locate Allie. Phil ran past me towards our stroller to look for her around there. I went back to where we had just been feeling sure she must be around there. Phil yelled to me that she wasn’t there. I turned around and began walking back as the realization began to sink in.

We lost Allie.

I was doing my best not to launch into full-on panic mode though I knew it was coming if we didn’t find her in the next two minutes. Every time Phil came into my view, I’d look at him hopefully, and he’d just shake his head that no, she wasn’t with him. He looked angry. Turns out his terror-stricken face and angry face are very similar. I kept walking and spotted a Disney employee coming towards me and I stopped him and said the dreaded words out loud, “we got separated from our daughter.”

He immediately responded with concern and asked me for her name, her age, and when it happened. When I answered that it was just after the parade ended, he said, “Oh no, that was a while ago now.” My insides started shaking upon hearing that and I struggled to keep my voice steady to answer the rest of his questions. I clung tightly to Jonah more to steady myself than to keep him secure.

I walked closer to where Mikey and Lauren were sitting waiting for us so that I could keep an eye on them and scan up and down the walkway hoping that Allie would just appear. The only thought running through my mind was pleaseGodpleaseGodpleaseGod.

Another employee approached me to let me know security had been alerted and they were already looking for her. He asked me for a description of her and her basic info. Except he kept referring to her in the past tense, as in, “What was her name?” “How old was she?” This totally bothered me and I wanted to yell that she’s NOT past tense!! But I told myself he’s only trying to help and yelling at him wouldn’t help us find her sooner.

Several minutes pass and I just keep scanning both ways, praying frantic disjointed fragments, willing myself to see my girl in the UCLA shirt and yellow pants she was wearing that day. The minutes keep ticking away. I have no idea how long it’s been but it’s absolutely been too long.

Suddenly, I spot her bright yellow pants and blue shirt and HER walking in our direction. Relief floods through me and I sprint towards her (while still carrying Jonah) before she sees me. She was walking with a security guard who checks with her to make sure I am her mother. Turns out Allie had turned to chase one last bubble when Phil called the kids over. He left with the other three assuming Allie had come over to walk with me. By the time Allie turned back around, she couldn’t see either one of us in the now crowded walkway but figured she could just keep walking and eventually catch up to us. She made it as far as the Carsland area. It was dark and she couldn’t find her family. The tears were welling up in her eyes and a mom (thank you Jesus for this mom) spotted her and asked if she needed help. She nodded and the mom took her to an employee and stayed with her until the security guard arrived. Allie was able to tell the security guard my cell phone number and they had tried to call me earlier but my phone was in my back pocket and I never heard it ring or thought to check it in my frantic state. I held it together for Allie’s sake and just kept giving her hugs and kisses and reassuring her that all was well though surely I felt like bursting into tears right then and there.

Phil runs up and joins us and the sheer relief is written on his face too.

It took us a while to calm down and the only two thoughts running through my mind were thank you, Jesus and thank you for that dear mom who I’ll never get to thank but who helped Allie when I couldn’t.

Thank you, Jesus.

So scary.

So thankful.

So relieved.

I just kept her close and gave her many reassuring squeezes. Maybe more for my benefit than hers. I kept telling her she was brave and did the right thing getting help from another mom and the Disney employees. And how great it was that she remembered my phone number and did a good job staying calm in a scary situation. And how it was okay to feel scared because her daddy and I were scared too, but to remember that God was with her the whole time.

The next morning, while the rest of the family went to get smoothies from Jamba Juice in downtown Disney, we two slipped away for a little while so I could get a few shots of my precious girl in a Winnie-the-Pooh “just wanted to be sure of her” sort of way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you, Jesus.