TI've always heard about the universal bond of motherhood, but I've never really bought the concept. Sure, I've had little bonding moments with old ladies in the supermarket checkout line about how quickly these years will fly by and with random women who reach out and touch my flabby pregnant belly at inopportune moments. I've always smiled and nodded and gone on my way, occasionally getting annoyed when they hold me up. But six and a half years into motherhood, I've never really been impressed by the mythical mother connection.
Today I saw this bond in action, and it was amazing to behold. I was speed shopping at the Gap Outlet in Paramus, trying to get summer shirts for my three kids in ten minutes so as to leave myself enough time to browse for purses in Century 21. The Gap Outlet is particularly depressing right now because most of the mall is being gutted to make way for a Target and a Whole Foods. The mall has always been eerily deserted, but today it was filled with a mix of bargain shoppers and portly workers in hard hats. I had wedged myself between two other women and was rifling through the toddler sales rack, ready to pounce on any cute 18-24 month t-shirts. I've never fully recovered from having the last adorable patchwork boy's shorts in a 2T ripped out of my hands by a hardcore
shopper two years ago. Completely focused on my mission, it took a few
minutes before a growing commotion reached my ears. A young woman with
a cascade of wavy brown hair down her back came running into our section. She was shouting, "Anna? Anna?!! Anna??!!!!" Confused by her growing panic, she was almost running in circles, like a dog chasing its tail. One of the saleswomen called out to her, "Did youlose your child? What is she wearing?" The mother didn't stop running around while she answered, "I don't know! I don't remember! Anna??!!!" She had a pronounced Spanish accent. Her voice was quivering, on the edge of complete panic, and she was crying.
The saleswoman picked up her walkie-talkie to tell her supervisor about the missing child. The mother had run out of our section, and I could hear her desperate cries echoing throughout the stark store. I was shaking, imagining the terror this woman was going through. I stepped back from the sale rack and began looking around the fixtures of the infant and toddler section. I suddenly realized that all the other women in the store were doing the same thing. Young, old, White, Black, and Hispanic: each woman present had stopped shopping and was now searching for the missing child. Without a single word, a full sweep was organized.
Suddenly we heard a cry, "We found her! We found her!" I turned the corner and saw the mother crying while ferociously clutching a confused toddler girl with golden curls. The proud saleswoman was telling everyone around that she had found the baby crawling around in the fitting rooms. A group of women had surrounded the mother and child. They were patting her on the back, touching the baby's hair, and telling them how relieved they were that everything had worked out okay. I wiped a tear and exchanged a few "Thank God" comments with women around me who were also staring at the scene. Then, as quickly as it had come, the unity disappeared now that the danger was averted. I turned back to the sale rack and looked at my watch. I found myself thinking, "What a careless mother. She should have been keeping a closer eye on a child that young."
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