Penance: Not Just for Ash Wednesday

I am still a little shaky. This morning about 7:15 AM our doorbell rang, followed by frantic knocking at the door. “I’m coming!”, I called out in response. I opened the door, expecting to see an adult or teenager in trouble who wanted to use the phone or needed help with their car stalling out. Instead, I saw a nine or 10-year-old boy with a backpack who blurted out, “I missed the bus. Can you take me to school?”
I didn’t recognize the child who told me his name was Nehemiah. He told me that his bus was early and he saw it from a block away, but he could not catch it and it left him behind. I asked him if his mother was home and he said no because she was at work. I asked him if his mother had a phone so he could call her. He said no. Then he asked me again if I could take him to school because he didn’t want to be late. I told him to wait, to be sure that he waited for me while I got to the phone. Then, just to make sure that he did not run off to an unsafe house, I asked him to come in and sit down while I made a call. This he obediently did.
I called 911 and spoke to a dispatcher who asked Nehemiah a few questions. His mother’s name was Ann, he said. Did he live with her and his father? He said he lived only with his mother. The dispatcher asked me for my address, phone number, and name and said she would send a police officer to take Nehemiah to school. I could certainly have taken him myself, but I didn’t want to be accused of kidnapping a child. In this litigiously happy society, suppose the car had gotten into an accident, what kind of position would that put me for doing a good deed?
While we waited for the policeman to arrive, I asked Nehemiah some questions. Where did he live? He pointed across the railroad tracks up the street. I asked if he had tried any other houses to see if anybody could help him. He said that he had tried every house on both sides of the street and no one answered the door. I asked him if he needed a note from me so that he would not get in trouble with his teacher for being late. He said he did not need a note because he would just get a pass.
Nehemiah kept looking anxiously for the police car to arrive because he really did want to go to school. And when it did come, he happily got inside. This, however, was not the car that would take him to school, but rather an officer in the area who had been dispatched to pick up Nehemiah until another officer arrived to drive him to the middle school, which is a few miles away. That officer arrived shortly, and I waved goodbye to Nehemiah as he headed off to school.
I was still interiorly tremulous as my husband and I walked up the street to morning Mass which begins at 7:45 AM. I kept thinking, ”What would have happened if Nehemiah had gone to a house of a pedophile or a child abuser? What would have happened, if no one had opened the door to this innocent child?”
Perhaps Nehemiah’s mother never considered the possibility of her son missing the bus and not knowing what to do. So, I offer this simple suggestion for parents who leave their children to catch the bus while they go off to work. Give your child the key to the house; Nehemiah did not have one. Or, if you do not trust your child with the key to the house, then teach your child where a key is hidden outside the house, so that he or she can get it in an emergency. Also teach your child to call 911 if they need a ride to school, or have any other emergency. A police officer will come and help the child. Or make arrangements with a trustworthy neighbor who is at home, so that the child can go there in an emergency. In other words, think through what you want your child to do if you are gone, and your child needs help.
I hope Nehemiah had a good day at school today. He certainly seemed like a polite and eager child. I am glad he is a now safe child.