Speaking of someone to rescue, I had a weird moment yesterday.

I was in my kitchen, which has a window overlooking the alley outside my garage. This little road serves the garages of about 60 condos, so it gets plenty of traffic.

I ate a peach, or most of one; it was a little gone in spots. I wiped the counter to keep it nice and clean. Looking out the window, I saw a baby. Alone. My brain did a little hiccup. I wiped the counter a little more, looked down again and said, Oh God there is a baby toddling around down there alone. A little girl, about one year old, with very dark hair. All by herself, right in the middle of the road.

I hurried down the stairs. She was wobbling to the east, around the building. She saw me and stopped. I asked her “Where’s Mommy, Sweetie?” There’s nobody around, and I didn’t have a cell phone or anything. I’m hesitant to pick her up: what it somebody sees me now and gets the wrong idea? It’s a sick world, and people steal children.

Just as I’m about to pick her up, or at least try to take her hand, her big brother comes around the corner of the building, looking for her. He’s about nine or ten. I said, “This belong to you?”

He says, “Oh my goodness. Thank you.”

I said, “She was in the street.”

“Oh my goodness,” again.

Thank God it ended quickly and well. A weird little blip in an ordinary day of an aging peach for your afternoon snack can suddenly go so wrong. Everything that matters is so fragile.