McDonalds & Belts

The other day, I sat in a McDonalds in northern Phoenix. My car was in the auto shop next door, receiving a new serpentine accessory belt that had all but broken off completely. The sun was beating through the window, helping my slightly chilled body receive the welcomed warmth. Behind me, a ten foot, plastic tree look-a-like stood, extremely padded in all directions and on all surfaces. A PlayPlace®.

From the tree to the wall, a small wall of mesh was built, to keep children from going behind the daunting structure and getting lost, or hurting themselves, all away from the watchful supervision of parents or grandparents.

On this particular day, three little kids were playing in and around the large tree. Two sisters and an older boy. The boy, it seemed, was the more adventurous of the three - calling out orders and leading the two smaller children to "safety" from the "evil demons" that threatened the tree.

Imagination, huh?

As the children played, the little boy noticed something. Behind the tree, behind the mesh, laid two small balls. "A bouncy ball and one is full of beans!" yelled the child to his grandmother, informing her of what was behind there. The grandmother nodded politely and mentioned how that was all well and good.

Later the boy implored that he go up to the front desk of the restaurant and advise them that the two balls were behind the tree. There must be something they could do to get them out of there, because that's not where they belonged! There must be someone that would be able to get those out. The grandmother assured him that they would get the balls sooner or later, but right now, they were pretty busy.

The boy seemed to accept it.... for a while. A few moments later, one of the employees came over - a person of Mexican decent, that seemed to only know Spanish. As the employee came close to the table in which the boy sat with his grandmother, the boy saw his opportunity. "Hey, there's two balls behind there!"

The employee nodded slightly, not quite seeming to understand, but went on the way, ignoring further comments from the child. The grandmother reaffirmed that they would get them as soon as possible.

Now, don't get me wrong - they probably would get them sooner or later. And in reality, on the priority list of all the employees list of things to do, it would be rare that "retrieving lost balls from behind the big plastic tree" was very high. But there was something inspiring about the insistence of the boy.

Concern. Care.

He was concerned that someone had lost their toys behind the tree. He cared that they were where they should not have been. He wanted to help the restaurant out in the best way he could. And he fully expected someone to do something about it, just as everyone else did when there was a problem seen.

To him, it was a big thing. To him, it needed to be resolved. He couldn't do it, he was just a boy, with no access to the parts behind the tree - for if he did, he would have certainly retrieved the balls from their fallen location.

So, it rested upon the shoulders of the adults. But the adults did not want to listen. They didn't care about simple lost toys.

Innocence... Concern... Care... Dedication...

Simple, yet inspiring.

My car was ready only 3 hours later, due to further broken parts. But I will not likely forget this small, simple experience anytime soon.