Lost



 "Keep a close watch on Scarlet," were Wesley's last words to me before he left for the store. We were at the world's largest Easter Pageant, which seems ironic because it's in lil' ole Mesa where generations of my family (including all us sisters) were born and raised. Inevitably, the pageant turns into the world's largest family reunion. I usually end up meeting a relative for the first time, and my mom looks at me like I'm stupid that I didn't know it was so-and-so's daughter. Anyway, Wes had just left the temple grounds where the pageant was being held to pick up some last minute treats.

It was one of those perfect spring desert nights; no sweater necessary and no sweating required either. We were there with my two older sisters, their families, and our parents. I was sitting there thinking what an enjoyable time everyone seemed to be having, when I glanced back to check on Scarlet and realized she wasn't there.

"Scarlet?" I called with no response, seeing fifteen rows of vacant metal folding chairs staring back at me blankly. I jumped out of my seat, Ivy on my hip. I was not too concerned yet and called to the group of cousins, "Do you guys see Scarlet?"

It took a few moments of heads shaking no for it to sink in, that I really did not know where my child was. The pit in my stomach growing, my heart accelerating, hysteria was coming on. The crowd that once seemed familiar and fun had now turned into a crowd of strangers that seemed to grow with my anxiety- and quickly at that. All I could do was seem to whimper, "Scarlet??" Over and over again. My eyes welling with tears I looked to Eliza and stuttered, "What do I do?" I was very much frozen with fear, and dark thoughts of a predator stealing my little girl.

After a few hellish minutes, where I swear I quit breathing, I turned around to see an angelic sight. My brother-in-law Kris holding my precious girl, completely unaware of the commotion she had just caused me. I suddenly remembered to breathe. He had found her playing a few rows of chairs behind us. We couldn't see her at first glance, because the backs of the chairs were taller. Thank you Kris, for taking a closer look.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder; however, I would have to disagree. My heart seemed to grow weaker, and more quickly than I ever could have imagined. I do not ever want or need to experience that again to understand my love for my children. Little girls of mine, stay close to your mama! And answer when I call your name, dammit!