Little and Lost

I want to apologize right off the bat for this post coming a tad late and also for our general lack of posts these past couple weeks- we have been in Florence for the last week or so (with a short trip to Venice over the weekend) and have been super busy! But as they say, better late than never, and I think this story warrants telling...

We were out walking one day in Rome with some friends from the hostel we were staying at. We had been exploring the sites all day, and were heading back towards the hostel, planning to stop along the way and grab something to eat. The streets were crowded with tourists (as they were in most places in Rome) and it was a constant struggle for the 5 of us to stay together. I found myself in the lead and looking over my shoulder every few seconds, making sure we hadn't lost anyone. It was easy to do in the crowds, and we had all been putting a fair amount of energy into staying together throughout the day. At one point, several members of our group paused on a corner, and waved me back. One of them had come across a lost child.

Noticing that he was alone, and appeared lost, Anna had stopped and stooped next to a blond haired boy who looked to be about 5 or 6. She made no assumptions and immediately started trying to determine what language the child spoke. “Espanol?” She asked, it being her first language. A timid head shake was all he offered. “Italiano?” No luck. “Inglese? English?” we asked. He responded with a reserved nod, but a nod! It was obviously not his first language, but he knew it well enough to understand, and to communicate with us a little. Something so easily taken for granted in ones own country was such a relief to us, and to him, under our current circumstances.

We instantly began asking him all the logical questions we could think of while simultaneously scanning the area around us for anyone who appeared to have lost a child: What's your name? Who were you with? Where was the last place you saw them? What do they look like?

His name was Adrian. He had been with his family – which we learned consisted of his mother, also blond, his father who 'has no hair', and his brother, who is 9-- only minutes before, but had become separated from them in the crowd. We walked around the corner with him a little ways in the direction he thought they'd been heading, doing our best to keep him calm and reassure him that it would be okay, we would help him find his family. We learned that they were on vacation and had stayed at a hotel the night before, but he didn't know where or which one. Five or so minutes went by with no success, and we began exchanging looks, wondering what our next move should be. It seemed the only logical option was to find a police station and try to explain to them what had happened. None of the 5 (6 if you include Adrian) spoke Italian. I asked in a cafe where to find the “polizia” and received some vague directions in Italian and a gesture around the corner, but nothing we could work with. Okay...

As I walked back out onto the sidewalk to where the group was standing with Adrian, I saw a police car driving past. Without a thought, I ran into the street to flag them down. They stopped and I thought “Oh shit, what now? I've flagged down a police car, but can't speak Italian!” I hesitantly asked them if they spoke English. They replied as many people do: “A little.” Hoping 'a little' was enough, I told them in English “We've found a lost child.”

Just at that moment, I heard by name being called from the sidewalk, and turned to see the group waving excitedly- they'd found them! Adrian had spotted his parents down the street talking to the police officer who they had found to help them. Without knowing if the officers in the car I had stopped ever understood me (they drove away a few seconds later) I returned to the sidewalk in time to see Adrian and his family turning the corner. The whole thing happened so fast, we were all left feeling a little flustered, but were relieved that everything had worked itself out.

All I could think about afterward was how awful it would be to have been Adrian's parents for those 7ish minutes. The panic that would have to be going through their minds having lost their child in such a crowd. How frightening it would be to know that he didn't speak the language and not know where he was.

All I could feel was my heart going out to every parent, every family who's ever lost a child- either temporarily in a crowded place, or even more terrifying- permanently.

Stay diligent out there, everyone. Take nothing for granted.  

~Jenna