I was somewhere in the bulk food isle when I heard a little girl crying for her mommy.
Her older brother, who was maybe 6, was trying to comfort her.
"We'll find her," he repeated over and over again.
But he was worried too.
You could see that worry all over his face.
I watched for a minute to see if the mom was somewhere close.
I was amazed at how many people walked right past that little girl, completely ignoring her cries for help.
I walked up to the kids, and crouched down so that I was at their level.
"Can I help you find your mommy?"
They both just nodded.
"Can you tell me what she looks like?" I asked.
"She has black hair," the little boy said.
The little girl looked at her big brother and said, "It's brown."
"She has brownish black hair," the little boy repeated.
"What's her name?" I asked.
The little girl told me.
When I asked the little girl what her name was I could see a flash of hesitation cross her face.
I am sure she was remembering the 'don't talk to strangers' talk she and her mom had probably had many times.
Perhaps she decided that talking to a kind stranger was better than being lost in the warehouse type grocery store, because she told me her name. And her brother's name, and her baby sister's name.
I told the kids that we would go to the front of the store where someone would call their mom's name over the radio.
When I asked the little girl if I could hold her hand, she nodded her head and reached out and took one of my fingers.
We made our way slowly to the customer service desk, with the brother chattering the entire way. Now that he was with an adult he was calm and relaxed.
We reached the front of the store and I heard someone calling the little girl's name. "That's my big sister," the boy said. The little girl let go of my finger and ran to her sister. The big sister, who was maybe 9, thanked me and took her brother and sister by the hand and walked towards their mom.
In the past 24 hours I've thought a lot about those kids, but especially the little girl. I've thought about her cries for help and how I was there to help her when she needed it.
And I've thought about my own cries for help...which have seemed so abundant the last few months.
Yesterday a storm came through Utah - a bad one. The storm not only brought snow; it brought with it 12 hours of vertigo for me.
I'll be honest in telling you that I shed a few tears of my own. The kind of tears that say, "Why God? Why is this happening again? Why can't you just heal me?" Because I believe that He can. I have that much faith.
But in the middle of the tears I thought of all that I have to be grateful for. And it's a long list.
I'm grateful for a husband, who in spite of getting sick at the sight of someone throwing up, sits with me when I'm sick.
I'm grateful for a sister who leaves the warmth of her house to come to mine to make me chicken broth and feed me ice chips. Well, not literally, but she sat there for two hours making sure that I fed myself the ice chips.
I'm grateful to a mom who loves me.
I'm grateful to a sister-in-law who called because when the storm hit she had the thought, "Oh, I hope Noelle makes it through this storm without getting sick."
I'm extremely grateful to know that at the end of 24 hours, no matter how sick I've been, I'll be mostly better.
I'm grateful to know that although I feel like I got hit by a truck, I really didn't get hit by a truck.
But mostly I'm grateful that I have a Heavenly Father who I can cry out to. I'm grateful to know that He hears and He answers my prayers.
I'll be off Thanksgivinging with Jason's family for the next few days. I have a million things to do before we leave so I best get at them.
My wish for all of you is that your Thanksgiving will be filled to overflowing with peace, love, and happiness.