To The Mom I Saw Struggling

     I saw you at the fair that day; twice in fact.  You had a toddler who was wanting to go in every direction.  The first time I spoke to you.  I told you I had an apparatus like you were using and that it was a life saver for my middle child.  You made eye contact and tried to muster at least a grin, but I could see it in your eyes.  You were frustrated, looking tired, ready to go home and take a nap.  Being a mother myself I knew there was probably a reason you didn't just pick up your toddler and leave right there.  I mean who would stay at a huge fair with just a less than happy toddler?  I sure wouldn't! 

     Just a short time later we crossed paths again.  You were were with some family.  This time your look was more intense.  The other adult with you was dealing with your toddler, but no one was dealing with you.  That look, oh how I know that look.  I wanted to go over and give you a hug and tell you it would be okay and that you were not alone in the struggle.  But I didn't approach you.  I let fear stop me from trying to give you some kind of comfort only another mother can give.  I'm sorry I let you down.

     I promise you now that my best will be put forward should I ever see you, or anyone like you, again.  I will extend a hand of comfort, a word of kindness, an ear to bend.  The need for that never goes away.  I saw you that day and have thought of you every day since.  God is using you.  He's using that moment.  I pray the next time you have a moment like you did that day that someone out there will extend you some comfort and compassion.  You are not alone.