Is This Still The Same World?

I had a particularly nasty experience last Sunday, rather Earth shattering in many ways to me. I believe my love for children is well documented, not only by my stories but also by the number of baby and children photos I share on this blog.

Last Sunday, as I walked out of JB Hi-Fi (the local mega music store) towards Town Hall Station, I passed by the boutique Jeans West and a shirt on the show window caught my eye. As I turned around to head for a closer look, I was distracted by the sight of a two or three year old boy running out of the store, giggling with glee. I saw the woman in front of me flinch, paused for a second, and then proceeded to go on her way. Seeing that there was no parent in sight, I caught hold of the child's arm as he swooshed past me.

At the corner of my eye, I caught sight of an adult running out, and assuming it was one of the parents, I stood still waiting for whoever it was to claim the child. A young woman rushed out, flustered, and when she saw that I had held onto the child, paused about 2 metres away from me. In a scene reminiscent of a police heist, she said to me sternly "Mate. You can let go of him now". I was shocked. I thought I had heard wrongly. She repeated, "Yes, you can let go of him now".

I loosened my grip and then she said "Thank you". It all turned out to be a blur from then on, as I proceeded to the window to look at the shirt. However, I no longer held interest because a part of me was dying inside. Here is a stranger who has just accused me of being a possible pedophile, kidnapper, nasty man etc. I sought within myself to deny this new "identity" that this stranger has just imposed on me. I was drowning with this new tag on top of me. I was confused that I didn't know how to react. Instead of getting back at her, I silently walked away.

I don't know if I was expecting any gratitude, but her reaction was totally uncalled for. What I did was a good deed and all I received was an accusation. It was unfair and what I would hate to come out of this is my fear of caring and intervening when we need to. This is why people stop helping others. The child could have run into an escalator or a door and injured himself. Someone else could have ran away with him. What did she think I was going to do? There were so many people around. None stopped to help and what did she think I could do? Run, molest, kidnap?

It really affected my mood for the rest of the day and upon further analysis, I realised that it touched on several insecurities and issues within myself ... especially around the seeming impossibility of parenthood and how I may never have this sort relationship with any child that I can call my own, and also the fact that I have been away from my family for almost a year, and I miss them.

Thankfully, my friends whom I had shared my experience with, have all expressed their shock and horror at the mother's reaction. I wonder if it was her way of skirting responsibility and asserting blame on others since she was the one that had not taken more care of the child? If not, what has this world become?