Lost

Burnham Park, Baguio City. Full Moon Christmas evening.  In a crowd, one could easily get lost.

In the evening last Friday, Christmas Day, we went to Burnham Park to walk through the “Christmas Village” that the local government of Baguio has put up for its citizens and visitors. There’s crowd when we arrived that the immediate instruction to the kids was to behave so they won’t get lost. But kids are kids and they would just insert themselves between people. The hands has to be strong to restrain them from going far or if it happens that their hands slip out, the eyes has got to be quick to spot where they would be. Then at a grassy flat area, their mother and I spotted some kids who were simply seated. “If only you were just like those kids...,” we told our kids.

We noticed something odd though – the kids were by themselves. The oldest is boy about ten years old. Behind him was seated a toddler and another kid deep in sleep. One of our kids, without being prompted, got near them, perhaps to befriend them. And since our son was conversing with them, we also got near them. My son reported that he already got the name of the oldest, and also informed us that these kids were by themselves because their mother returned to some store they came from to find their sister who was “lost”. We learned that they were from a mining village about an hour or so from the city. His toddler sibling is only about two years old. And they’re here at the park since the time the sun was going down. It was already seven-thirty on my phone which means these kids are more than two hours alone, but still behaving on their mat at the grass in a chilly evening. We have already gone around the tiny houses and are actually about to go home when we spotted the kids. But my wife, our two sisters who were also with us, were not comfortable leaving having known the situation of the kids.

My children talking to the kid at the park.

I thought of informing the nearby police station about the kids. Along the way, I met a police officer who was on patrol. I informed him about the kids and he gladly asked where they were as he agreed they really needed assistance. When we were at the kids’ spot, he immediately recognized by their faces that they must also be the kids of a woman who sought their assistance earlier about a lost child. He said that had they known that the woman still had children left on the park, they would have accommodated the kids in their office than being left in the chilly open space. He assured that he will watch over the kids as he cannot bring them to their office as there would be no one to inform the mother in case she returns.

There was some relief in us but still we lingered a little longer farther away, our eyes still on the kids. Some minutes later, a man arrived and the police officer talked to him briefly. He must be the father or a relative called by the mother to assist them. A few seconds later, they were joined by a woman and a little girl. She must be the mother as she immediately lifted the toddler and began breastfeeding her. We did not bother to get back to them to know their story but are happy heading home with what was obviously a happy ending.

This incident kept me thinking what if the experience of the woman happened to me. I will surely do as she did – going back to find my child. The word “lost” lingered a little longer in mind and soon on the many other ways of “becoming lost.” In the present crowd of things, it is so easy to get lost. In fact, I realized that I myself am somehow lost in the crowd of things that keeps the hands busy. I was so grateful of the long weekend – and the experience of the lost kids – to realize being lost and hopefully somehow figure out way to find one’s self. The experience of finding is surely a happy ending.