My husband and I kept wondering and discussing it for two days. Why would you not watch your child in a place like that?
But yesterday I remembered something that had happened to me: On an spring day in 1968 as a new mother, I took my one-year-old baby boy out in the yard to play because he loved being outside; I stationed myself inside at an open window where I could see him all the time and talk to him often. I was sitting sideways on the couch cutting out a pattern (trying to learn to sew, but that didn't work out): I would cut a bit, look up and see my baby, say something to him, and go back to cutting. Cliff was at work. I was keeping a sharp eye on my kid.
And then I looked up and he wasn't there. I didn't panic. I figured he had toddled around the corner of the house. But when I circled our house, he was nowhere in sight. We lived in the country at that time, with no close neighbors. He couldn't have been kidnapped, but he was gone. Now I panicked. As I was heading around the house one more time, I heard the faint sound of brakes being applied in the direction of the county road down below. When I looked toward the sound, I saw a car stopped, a lady getting out of the car, and my baby lying in the middle of the road in front of the car.
I will never know how my baby made it to the road that quickly. Our house sat quite a way back from the road. Jimmy didn't even walk that well yet, but he either went down the gravel driveway or through a meadow and across a ditch to get to the road. Either path would have been rough for him to navigate.
He wasn't hit by the car, he was just lying there on his stomach, and the lady picked him up. I ran to the scene as fast as I could, thanked her tearfully, took my baby from her, and hugged him as hard as I could.
Here's one more incident, from two years ago. It was toward the end of a day babysitting Cora. She wasn't walking yet, but she could crawl like crazy, and she was crawling around in the grass having a blast. We were watching for her dad to come and pick her up. In our front yard is a small lot where I kept my calves. Her daddy drove up the driveway, got out of the pickup, and came toward the house. As I began talking to him, his face lit up in a grin. He was looking out toward the small lot, so I turned to see what he was grinning at and there was that baby, IN the little lot with the calves. Probably the worst thing that could have happened to her would have been that she'd eat some manure, because she was at that stage. But how on earth could she have crawled straight to the only spot where she could have gotten under that fence and into the pen in such a short time?
A witness at the scene of the terrible incident with the gorilla said, "Her attention was drawn away for seconds, maybe a minute, and then he was up and in before you knew it."
It's time we stop judging people for simply being human. Let's get off our high horses and deal with something else now.
“The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes." William Shakespeare
"He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone at her." Jesus