The search for that little boy in Vancouver reminds me that I was once a missing child--really! I was about seven...and my parents took us to a park for a day of play that I enjoyed so much that I stubbornly refused to leave the swing set. So to scare me, or whatever, they drove off with my siblings--leaving me there! Actually, they just did a quick spin around the parking lot..but when they got back...the swing was empty and I was gone!
I was gone because I knew my way home. I started walking. About a mile down a four-lane highway, to a mom-and-pop store where kids bought candy, which is where I turned for another eight blocks home. I knew right where I was going.
What I didn't know was that a police search for me had commenced. If this had happened today, the media would've been all over it.
But after scouring the park...and checking the river that ran through it...my Dad retraced the route all the way home..and was enormously, hugely relieved to find me walking along briskly two blocks from our house.
Lesson learned. But by whom?