Confessions logo

The Little Boy

A Story About a Lost Little Boy

By Emilie TurnerPublished about a year ago 4 min read
2

I had always been a pretty average kid growing up. I didn't have any particularly noteworthy talents, I wasn't good at sports and I was an 'okay' student. I went through each day in a daze, just going through the motions and trying to figure out what I was going to do as an adult.

In summer, when I was around 12 years old, my family took a trip to the beach. I remember the clear blue skies, the gentle waves lapping on the shore and the little beach house we stayed at. I remember feeling so happy and carefree as I played in the sand and the water.

One day the beach became exceptionally crowded. I found myself completely surrounded by people I didn't know, with no sight of my family. It bothered me but I knew where the beach house was and figured they'd come find me if they needed me.

The sun started to slowly set over the horizon and the crowd began to disperse. That's when I noticed a little boy, about half my age, wandering around by himself. He had tears streaming down his face as his eyes darted around the beach. I felt a pang of empathy, I knew how it felt to be alone and how terrifying that could be.

I slowly walked over to him and knelt down. "Are you okay?" I asked.

The little boy shook his head, more tears falling down his cheeks. "I can't find my mummy," he sobbed. "She's not anywhere!"

My heart sank as the little boy's lips quivered. He was lost and scared and I couldn't leave him alone. "I'll help you find her," I said, gently taking the little boy's hand and leading him up the beach.

We searched high and low for his mother, his hand gripping mine tightly. I asked him to describe his mother and we asked every passerby if they'd seen her, but none had. The sun started to completely dip behind the sea and I was rapidly losing hope. I had no idea what I would do with the boy if we couldn't find his mother.

Just when I was about to call it and take him to my own parents I spotted a woman just down the beach. She had frantic movements as she darted from person to person. I pointed her out to the boy and his face lit up. He let go of my hand and bolted to the woman, flinging himself into her arms.

Tears streamed down the woman's face as she squeezed the boy tightly. She looked like she'd never let him go again. My heart released the tension it had been holding and a smile crossed my face as the woman started to thank me for looking after her little boy. She said she'd turned away for a moment and he vanished. She'd been looking for him for hours and couldn't find him anywhere, she'd started to think he'd been kidnapped.

I heard my mother calling my name. As I turned to leave the woman stopped me. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small necklace with a silver shell charm on it. "Please take this," she said. "I know it doesn't look like much but it was my mother's and I'd be honoured if you could take it as a thank you for keeping my son safe."

I hesitated but took the necklace as she pushed it on me further. I felt uncomfortable taking an heirloom but she insisted. I didn't think I had done anything special, I'd simply helped a little boy find his mum.

But as we left from our summer holiday I felt different. The shell necklace was firmly clasped around my neck and something inside me felt different. I wasn't a selfish kid, but I'd never gone out of my way to help someone before. I hadn't hesitated at the time, but reflecting on it I started to realise the magnitude of my actions. It made me realise that even the smallest of actions could have the largest impacts.

I wore the necklace everyday as I grew older. It reminded me daily of how important kindness and empathy were. I started working harder and decided to help others in the community by becoming a psychologist. I liked how I felt helping that little boy and I knew I wanted to help others as much as I could.

I still wear that necklace. Not every day anymore, but it stays in my bathroom front and center, a reminder of why I decided to study this career path and why empathy is so important. I will never forget that day and I will always make an effort to help others wherever possible.

Teenage yearsFamilyChildhood
2

About the Creator

Emilie Turner

I’m studying my Masters in Creative Writing and love to write! My goal is to become a published author someday soon!

I have a blog at emilieturner.com and I’ll keep posting here to satisfy my writing needs!

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments (1)

Sign in to comment
  • Kendall Defoe about a year ago

    I love these types of stories. You did a great thing here. I had to do the same sort of thing once with a child at a fair. I was with my niece and she noticed the kid on his own. We waited for a while until his mom showed up and she thanked us both. Great work!

Find us on social media

Miscellaneous links

  • Explore
  • Contact
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use
  • Support

© 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.