I wanted to take her home. I am not exaggerating at all. I would have taken her home, and never looked back. I got to hold her a couple of months ago at a local business ,while several police officers were investigating an alleged crime. I can’t repeat her name for reasons of confidentiality. Nor can I share her exact age. I can only say that she is an infant.

I was riding out with one of the officers on the day shift that Friday afternoon. The officer I was accompanying was called to a business to investigate an alleged case of criminal mischief. The mother of a precious little girl was one of the subjects being questioned. In searching the mother’s belongings, illegal drugs and paraphernalia were discovered. This of course led to further questioning and more investigation.

The officers were taking turns holding the baby. I of course gladly joined the rotation. They finally let me have exclusive baby holding rights, because the little one would always stop crying when I held her. I told the officers that baby knew I was a “wanna be grandpa.” She took a bottle, and dozed on my shoulder. I was amazed at how fast you can bond with a baby.

Mom went to jail. The child’s father is already in jail. The grandparents showed up to take custody of my new found friend. I reluctantly gave her up.

I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel in the aftermath of such an experience. One minute I wanted to spit nails or hit somebody, and the next minute I wanted to cry over the loss of my new found friend. I still don’t know exactly what to do with that experience now that a couple of months have passed, but I have formulated a few conclusions.

I now have a greater appreciation for foster parents. When I was in graduate school years ago, I worked for a man who had a foster child in his home for quite some time. He and his wife tried to adopt the child, but instead the little boy was placed back in the horrible home that he was once taken from. My employer and his wife found it difficult to talk about that experience 20 years later. After my recent experience, I have a tiny inkling of how they still feel today, some 45 years after letting that child go.

Every time I ride out with one of the officers, I pray that God will use me where I am needed. I realized that day that the service I offer may have to be ever so brief, but of utmost importance. I can only hope that I provided that child with a sense of love and security, even if it was for a very short time.

I would have taken her home and never looked back, but sometimes we have to do whatever God allows us to do at the moment, and be content. I am still trying to convince myself of that, but it sure sounds good. I wonder who is holding my little friend today, becuase I still wish I could have taken her home.