A name I had never heard before today.
I know nothing about this name. As I drive my 3 year old son to daycare an amber alert interrupts one of my favorite songs on KLOVE.
“An Amber Alert has been issued for the State Of …” says that voice we all know. He goes on to explain that a car was stolen from a grocery store parking lot at 1 am. The car contained a six year old boy.
An innocent little boy.
My eyes slid to the back seat where my son was eating a grilled cheese sandwich. The only thing I can get him to eat right now. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner.
My heart cries out to The Lord. “Father, please don’t let Kingston be hungry.” It had been roughly six hours since he was taken.
Was he scared? Was he in the car still? Did they realize he was there and throw him out the first chance they got?
No. My thought was a cold one. He was six. He probably saw the face of the man who took him. He could probably give an account.
My stomach churned.
“Father please send your angels to Kingston. I don’t know where he is, but you do. Please take his fear. Please keep him safe.”
It was all I could do. I looked at every car that drove by me with suspect. I begged for The Lord to intervene.
I brought my son to daycare, holding him tightly. I did not want to leave him.
That voice came on the radio three more times this morning. Each time I was begging for the alert to be cancelled.
Then it was.
Kingston was found.
In the exact manner I prayed against.
The details have not been released at this time.
He was found in the backseat with a fatal gunshot wound.
All I can do is cry.
This is not my child. I have never heard of this child. I will never meet his family.
But I hurt so much for his mother. Grandmother. Grandfather.
Had he been asleep? Did he wake up when the car was stolen? Did they kill him in his sleep? Father please tell me that baby was asleep and had no fear.
My own son is at daycare right now. Probably fighting a nap. All I want to do is run to him and hug him.
Something I will be allowed to do at 5pm.
Not Kingston’s Mother.