my afternoon...

I love my children. I worry quite often about something happening to one of them, losing one of them. What would I do? Today we had a baby shower at the church for my darling friend Jillian. As we were leaving, I noticed Molly wasn't with the other kids. I had seen her not a minute before. We had gone to the bathroom, come back to the others, I handed her the orange juice to carry, and we headed out to the car. I wasn't terribly concerned at first. She likes to play hide and seek. Surely she was somewhere in the empty church and I would hear her laughing.

After about 10 minutes, I found my heart wanting to panic and my brain not quite sure what to think. My sweet, sweet friends Jillian and Patricia (who I will be eternally grateful for after today) stayed with me. They looked at the church, checking every room, while I walked around outside, calling frantically for her. Every time I would turn a corner, expecting to see her, I would panic more when I didn't. I felt like I was in a haze. Things seemed more silent, slower, without her there. I had friends at home making calls, coming back to the church to help, petitioning the Lord. I love my friends. I love these people who love my children like I do, who help to relieve my hurt and worry.

I went to the school which is just across the street in the hopes that she had gone out and thought she would try to find her brother and sisters. By the time I got into the office and was speaking with the principal, I was completely panicked. Coherent enough to describe her and her outfit, her hair, her shoes, but terrified and not hiding it very well. The principal immediately started looking while the secretary made an announcemant over the loud-speaker. I think hearing that is what sent me in a tailspin. I was helpless. Had she wandered off trying to find her way home? Had someone found her and taken her? Had she been hurt? I called sweet Dave. I needed to hear his voice. I needed him there. He left work immediately. He got to us in record time.

As soon as I got back to the church, Patricia recommended 2 things...a prayer and calling 911. Call 911? Was this even really happening? A cop friend from the ward called me shortly thereafter, telling me help was on the way, asking me for details. Who had seen her last and where? What was she wearing? All while I'm wondering...How could this be real? Where was Molly? Several men from the ward had shown up for one reason or another, and other random people. Everyone was looking. Driving up and down the street, calling her name through the church.

As I was talking with the police on the phone, I heard someone say, "They found her". 12:57pm. I was elated. I ran in to make sure it was really Molly. It was. Patricia was hugging her, holding her tight, as emotional as I was. Molly on the other hand was not. She was happy. She had been playing hide and seek for the last 30 minutes. I was hysterical. So happy to see her and touch her, but also dealing with the emotions of this being a game to her. 30 minutes. Hiding. Completely silent. In the Relief Society room, under some chairs where ALL of us had already looked...several times. I was overcome with emotion. Actually, I'm still trying to process all of this. I love my friends and my ward family. They dropped whatever they were doing to help me and comfort me. I'm not quite sure how to approach this with Molly. I don't want her to think she was naughty, but I want her to know I was scared. I put her down for her nap, then heard her talking. I peeked inside to find her "reading" a birthday card to her baby, saying...don't EVER run away. :) She knows I was worried. She knows I was sad. I've gotten several special, little, soft kisses on the cheek. I love her and I am so glad she is mine.