A Mother's Heart

I am reading a book and the book reminded me of this story. It happened to yours truly. Pull up a chair and let me tell you the story.
Long ago, probably about 20 or more years ago, Bald Man had a certain job. He worked with certain people. Among these people were a father/daughter pair. Which is kind of odd. The father and his 3 year old daughter. And no mother involved. I would bug my hubby for more details about this man he worked with and his daughter. The man was good to his girl. She was clean, well fed, taken care of. Nothing to note on those issues. I just thought it was odd. A man raising a little girl all alone. Bald Man, in response to my prodding brought home these answers. Yes, the little girl has a mother, but she is a bad mother. A drug addict, a woman who didn't care about her daughter, and did bad things, which is how she came to live with her daddy instead.
Still, I thought it was odd. My husband told me not to be so nosy, not to ask so many questions, not to rock the boat, because he had to work with this man.
And so I did. I didn't ask any more questions, I didn't say anything at all for months. 9 months to be exact.
But in those months, I still wondered. One night I watched a show on TV about a mother whose child had been kidnapped, who moved heaven and earth to find her child. Faces on milk cartons and posters of missing children. And I wondered, "what if it were me? What if it were my child who had been taken? What would I do, how would I feel?" "What if the man is lying and the mother isn't a drug addict?" And then, I knew I couldn't be silent anymore.
Through my nosiness, I knew the state that the father and his daughter used to live in. I called the police in that state, I told them what I knew. My husband was a bit frightened, his coworker had a bad temper and he didn't want him to find out that we had made an inquiry about him to his home state.
The next day my husband went to work and was very surprised to find out that his coworker was in jail. For kidnapping, to be extradited to the state he was from. My husband even spoke to him from the jail, thank goodness the man didn't have a clue where the information had come from. We never heard from the man again.
A few months later, my phone rang. The voice on the phone identified herself as the mother of the little girl that used to live alone with her daddy. The mother began to tell me her story.
How once, she had loved this man, how they never married, but they had a child together. She told me about the man's temper and his mean streak. How one day, when he had visitation with the little girl, he called the mother. He put the little girl on the phone and told the mother, "say good-bye, you will never see your daughter again". CLICK. And they were gone.
The mother told me of the tears, and the lonely nights. She told me about the posters and phone calls. The police and lawyers, as they tried to track where this man had gone, taking her daughter with him, into a night that never ended for her. She worried and she cried, but most of all, she prayed.
She prayed that a mother would see her child, that this other mother would know, somehow, that this little girl had a mother who loved her. She prayed the other mother would send her home.
I was the other mother. When she called me to tell me thank you, all I felt was guilt. I KNEW that little girl had a mother and if I had listened to my heart, I could have sent her home nine months sooner. The little girl's mother said it didn't matter, all that mattered was the little girl was home now.
Then she told me how the little girl kept her father's picture by her bed. The mother told me how she never, ever said anything bad about the little girl's father to his daughter. She said she loved her daughter more than she cared about getting revenge on him. I don't think the mother ever understood how much she taught me in that moment. Loving a child is more than just your own feelings. It means loving them more than your own feelings. Love isn't about how you feel, it is a still, quiet place, where the other person matters more than anything else in the world.
I won't ever forget the mother who taught me what being a mother is really about. In this crazy world, where children are used as pawns against other parents and loved ones, there are still people who believe what is best for the children comes first. This mother taught me that lesson. I pray I never forget it.