Kidnapped?: One Reader's Story

It’s normal for children who come from a stable and loving home to think they have the best parents in the world. I know that I was no exception. When I was three years old, my mother had serious surgery. Removing an infected gall bladder is usually not major surgery today, but that wasn’t the case when I was a child.

I listened. I always listened, not often commenting. I heard my mother discussing with my father what would happen if she died. I heard my father reply that she shouldn’t think that way. She would be fine...and after many days of fighting the pain and infection, my mother was fine and came home to us.

A beautiful sunny Friday afternoon marked her first foray out of the house. She and her best friend had gone shopping and left me in Daddy’s care. Looking out the window for her to return, I saw instead a green Alfa Romeo pull into the drive. A sailor was driving, and a stout blond man in civilian clothes sat next to him. He was my cousin and also the man half responsible for my entry into the world.

Daddy announced that Mason had arrived from Millington early. He took my hand and led me out onto the porch. Mason jumped out of the roadster and grabbed me. I began to scream. I looked at Daddy, but he only looked back at me in surprise. Why wasn’t he trying to stop Mason?

“Put me down. Put me down.” I screamed and began to kick. I was being kidnapped, and Daddy was just standing there. I kicked harder.

Mason held me so tight I was in pain. “This is my daughter.”

“No I’m not. Put me down.” I couldn’t say another word. I was literally heaving at this point. It must have then dawned on Daddy that I thought I was being kidnapped, and he took me out of Mason’s arms. The poor sailor looked as if he wanted to leave right away...and he did. Daddy continued to hold me, but I couldn’t stop crying. As we walked toward the house, Mason muttered something about “just wanting to show me off” to the young gob who had saved him train fare to Sheffield.

I never heard my father speak of that incident. I know if he did remember it, it was not the flash bulb type memory that I carry with me until this day.

A child deserves two loving parents. A child deserves security. A child doesn’t deserve some sperm donor trying to snatch him for his personal gratification. 

Thanks to one of our regular readers for sharing a very personal and traumatic story. I hope everyone who has ever wanted to take a child away from its parents will read this and take it to heart. I keep reading on Facebook pages about the family members who are so "hurt" over a child they've barely seen, but none of them mentioning what's best for the child. Selfish hardly covers it.

Bailey