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THIRTY MINUTES

Darla Bartos

A glimpse of life and how people react to one another.  Strangers who have no idea anyone is listening and waiting to capture them anonymously, glimpsing snatches of life to consider, to contemplate. We can learn about the world through a glimpse.
Take an experience recently at London Heathrow International Airport. An alarming situation, but one you won’t hear about anywhere else. A situation quietly resolved within 30 minutes. For some of us it was a nervous 30 minutes.
A small boy, maybe seven, was pacing back and forth on a stretch of concrete in Terminal A.

“Mom, Mom,” he shouted. He paced. “Mom, Mom.”

No one answered, but plenty of us waiting for our flights looked up with concern. Being a mother of five, a child calling for his mother alerted all my instincts. I watched and moved closer to him as I saw another woman approaching him with concern.

The child had wandered over to a kiosk area where they sold high-end fountain pens and other writing implements. A small thin woman with shoulder length black hair in casual professional clothes walked toward him and leaned over to talk to him.

As I moved closer, I watched the audience. Several tired and bleary-eyed people glanced in his direction but sat still when they realized an adult was on the scene with him.
An airport employee, who had heard the cries for Mom, quickly came into the scene as well. It was a high level situation for people everywhere who stopped what they were doing and stared as the scenario played out. I didn’t time it, but somewhere nearly 30 minutes later, a large well dressed woman with black hair piled on top of her head walked up. The child was instantly relieved. She bent over and said something to the child. The woman at the kiosk was relieved. The airport woman was relieved. I was relieved. The mother seemed almost indifferent.
The mother explained to the two women immediately involved that she had needed a break, had gone to get a glass of wine and some food and had told him to stay with the large stack of luggage. My mind boggled at the things that could have happened to that child while she was gone. I was incensed that a mother would leave a small quiet and well-mannered child by himself for any reason.

Parenting skills vary, I told myself, from country to country. I was devastated for the child because he was so upset. But, within minutes passengers waiting for flights went back to their newspapers, their IPods and their conversations.
I couldn’t help but watch the child for ever so long. The mother left again. This time she asked the kiosk woman to keep an eye on her son.

He never complained again, as he sat there waiting. I watched for a long time.

My layover was eight hours. Who knew how long theirs was? That’s a long time for a child to watch luggage.
The world is different. Countries are different. Parenting is different. But keeping children safe?  Shouldn’t there be international standards taught?