The Moments That Humble Us


The Moments That Humble UsAt the pumpkin patch, while watching my younger children drawing in the chalk room, my oldest son, who is 11, asked if he could go play some games elsewhere. I was quick to say “sure.” Growing up in the ’90s, we were off riding bikes all over the neighborhood at that age. Of course, now is a different time, but I figured he would be okay going to another area alone. After all, it was only about 10 or so yards away.

After a little bit of time, we decided it was time to go. I glanced around and did not see my oldest son. My first reaction was irritation. “He is going to be grounded from games after this!,” I said. My middle son and I decided to walk down the hill to a game area while my husband and youngest son searched up the hill. I didn’t see my oldest son. My husband didn’t see him. My middle son started to worry. My irritation turned to worry.

I went to the little store near the ticket booth and asked for assistance; they immediately sprang into action. I described what my son was wearing and pulled up a picture on my phone, one which I had taken of him 15 minutes earlier.

As I looked down at my sweet boy smiling on my phone, I just lost it. 

Suddenly, a million things went through my mind. I thought about something terrible having happened to my son, such as someone kidnapping him, and I also thought about all of my mistakes. I thought about how my first reaction when I couldn’t find him was to ground him from games and how I can be quick to get irritated and snap at him. I also thought about what a sweet, loving and good boy I have, and that I need to appreciate him way more than I do on a daily basis. 

I went into full panic attack mode.

The fear. The guilt. I couldn’t stop the tears as people were calling out his name. Shortly after, my husband texted that he found him, telling me that my son had been playing in a barrel ride with another child, which is why I didn’t see him when I searched that area before. I couldn’t stop crying as he was walking toward me and I hugged him so tightly. As we drove home, my husband asked why I was so quiet. “I’m just humbled,” I replied as I was holding back tears.

Frightening and uncomfortable moments are not something we ever want to experience in life, but they are something that we have to experience in order to become self-aware, grateful for what we have, and humbled. We need to be humbled in order to see the areas we need to improve upon and to see the best in others, things that we can often be blind to when going through our daily lives.