The Possibly Not-Human Shopper
Courtesy of Corrie Pikul
I remember one time, when I was around 6 or 7, shopping with my mom and sister at Ann & Hope (a shabby predecessor to Target). I was usually well-behaved, but I had a naughty streak. My sister and I were playing hide-and-seek, and I discovered that the circular clothing racks made perfect hiding spots—like private, quiet tents. The next round, I chose the women's nightgowns rack in the lingerie section and sat listening to my sister call my name as she wandered the aisles—her voice getting more and more frantic. Suddenly, the nighties parted and a face appeared—not my sister's, not my mom's. It was a grandmotherly woman, who said sternly but not unkindly, "Your mother is worried about you. You should get out of here right now and go stay with your mother."
"Who are you?" I said.
"Your guardian angel," she said.
I believed her! And for years, I remained convinced. I thought I had a guardian angel, an older woman with an armful of bras who kept an eye on me wherever I went. It wasn't until I got to college that I realized the woman wasn't looking out for me, but for my mother, who was desperate with worry and fear (this was in the '80s, when child abduction always seemed to be in the news). Even now, whenever I see someone struggling with a child in a mall, or when I see a little kid who's escaped her parent and running for broke, I think of that woman. It reminds me how we can all keep an eye out for each other. I'm so glad that woman was the one who found me, for everyone's sake.
— Corrie Pikul, health editor at Oprah.com