Yesterday was a beautiful day, so after nap we threw swimsuits on the family and headed up to a nearby park that has a shallow, narrow river (basically a glorified creek) running through it. We were clearly not the only people with the idea to cool off, so the dirt/gravel parking lot was packed. We navigated a spot and headed down to the water to swim.
After playing in the water for awhile, the boys decided they were done, so we dried off and loaded back into the car. As we started to inch through the still-packed parking lot a young woman carrying a baby fell about 15 yards in front of our car. She was carrying a baby and she took great pains (quite literally) to not drop him or fall on him when she tripped, so she ended up slamming down quite hard on her back with her baby on top of her.
My mom instinct kicked in and I threw the car in to park and leaped out to help her. She was crying tears I know all to well, tears of frustration and embarrassment, more than tears of pain. I lifted her baby off her chest and another man who had noticed her fall and I pulled her to standing. While we were trying to help her find her car in the mess of a parking lot, her boyfriend found her amidst the commotion and led her and the baby back to their car.
I headed back to my car glad to be part of a society where people still care about other people and stop to help them out.
I climbed in the car and Logan (my 4 and 1/2 year-old), who had been watching the scene unfold, posed a question for me, his voice laden with concern: “Mama, did you run that lady over?”
Needless to day, it wasn’t really the question that I expected. “No Logan, I did not run her over! She fell down, so I helped her back up.”
So either Logan thinks I’m a crazy, reckless driver or our parking lot safety talks make more of an impact than I ever imagined.