The "Why"

Malía and I did a couple of turns around the mall on Sunday, just before picking up her Auntie Née Née and Bethie. All was uneventful until a homeless man approached me in the parking lot and asked if I had any change. I told him I only use bank cards when out, but when I saw how sad he looked as he walked away, I reached into the car for a U.S. dollar I knew was in the door's catch-all.

Mal was already strapped into her seat, but I still needed to put the stroller away so simultaenously, as I handed him the bill, I hit the trunk release- or so I thought for just a split second- and closed the door.

In a fog I saw the trunk securely shut AND my keys on the front seat.

The man wanted to try and get me a coathanger, but I didn't want to "try" anything- Mal was in the car, and strapped in- I wanted action, now!

Being 2 hours away from home with no one else to call, I dialed 911- thank God I keep my cell phone tucked just above my left boob, or it would've been inside my purse, inside the CAR.

I told them that somehow, some bizarre way, I had managed to lock my 2 yr old daughter in the car in a public parking lot, and that we were from out of town. Mal had figured out that something was greatly amiss and was sitting there looking frightened and calling out to me. I started crying. The dispatcher was sympathetic, telling me she too has a child my Malia's age, that it was okay to be feeling what I was, and that help was on the way.

Two officers arrived within moments and both were extremely gentlemanly and concerned for my daughter. One left when he was sure the tow truck was on the way to unlock the car (the other option was breaking a window, but a) the glass could hit Mal and b) it was a beautiful day so no danger of suffocation or hyprothermia), but before he left, he assured me that this happens all the time, and not to feel guilty. Almost at the same time, both officers thought to get a plush police dog to engage my baby girl through the window of the car. (edited to add: we tried to get Mal to reach the handle, but her poor little arm only went to about 2/3's of the way. She seemed to know what we wanted though. Guess I will have to teach her how to open doors now. Been avoiding that)

Officer L. then stayed with me, talking to me, talking to Malia etc in a reassuring way. He even made her smile a couple of times, though her eyes were brimming with tears. He commented on how beautiful he thought she was and then asked what we were doing so far from home. (he was not being official, just trying to keep me talking) I told him about the SC reunion. He began asking all kinds of questions about her adoption, and then admitted that he and his wife had been trying for about 10 years to have a bio baby and were considering what their next steps would be. He looked at Mal when he said that. I gave him my agencies info and the director's name
The tow truck came, did 2 seconds (literally) of work, I paid him the $52.25 and had my baby girl in my arms.

I had been asking myself WHY that was happening to me, to us- I was afraid it may have traumatized Malia (who told me she'd been "scar't, mama")- but the second Officer L. mentioned his pain, I knew:

Maybe one more couple will end up parents b/c of it,

maybe one more child will end up forever loved b/c of it.

(btw, I wrote to the Police Dept commending the dispatcher's and Officers' handling of the situation. I didn't mention the "why" of it all :)