CLAIREMBER 2022
Day 22 - compassion

Claire was on her way to the shoe department when she heard it: a child crying in terror. She followed the sound into the men's department. The crying came from inside a circular rack of shirts. She parted them.

A curly-haired boy looked up. His face was red and wet with tears. Crying harder, he scooted further into the shirts.

"Hey, it's okay," she said, sitting cross-legged. "My name's Claire. What's yours?"

He sniffled. "Mama said I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

She passed him a tissue. He watched her for a moment, then took the tissue and blew his nose.

"Thank you," he said.

"Don't mention it. Did you lose your mama?"

He teared up again. "Yes. And I don't know how to find her."

"I can find her. What does she look like?"

"She's big and pretty."

"Does she have curly hair like you?"

"Yes."

"Alright." She climbed to her feet. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

Claire looked across the sea of racks. Only four heads trod the racks, and none of them had curly hair.

She glanced behind her. The boy was now standing by the shirts, watching her.

She smiled and held out her hand. "Do you want to help me look?"

Shyly, he took it. She guided him into the main aisle.

Across the store, a woman yelled. She kept yelling the same thing, but they were too far away for Claire to understand.

"Let's go this way," she said.

As they walked down the aisle, the yells grew closer.

"Arnold! Arnold…!"

"Mama!" the boy screamed.

He let go of Claire's hand and ran toward the yells. She followed as fast as she could in high-heeled boots.

A curly-haired woman emerged from behind a shelf. When she saw the boy, she ran to him, plucked him up, and hugged him tight.

To Claire, she said, "Thank you so much. One second he was there, and the next he wasn't."

"They're quick," said Claire.

"Yes, they are. Oh God, I almost had a heart attack." She hugged the boy, Arnold, again. "We're going to have a very long talk about this when we get home, young man. Anyway, thank you so much again."

"Thank you," said Arnold.

"It was no trouble at all," said Claire.

The woman walked away, still holding Arnold. He looked over her shoulder, waved, and said, "Bye, Claire."

"Bye," she said, waving back.

She made her way to the shoe department. She sat in one of the chairs and rested her aching feet. The white knee-highs she'd planned to buy were still there, but the idea of wearing even taller, less comfortable heels right then made her flinch. Instead, she bought a pair of pink Sketchers, which she wore home while toting around her black-heeled boots.