In the early months of Summer 2015, my family and I had taken an extensive trip around Europe, we started in New York and then flew all over the continent going to France, The UK, Poland, and Italy. These were some of the most beautiful places I had ever seen in my life and of course we visited all of the tourist attractions such as the Eiffel Tower in France or the Colosseum in Italy. As a child I was oblivious to the cruelty of the world around me and thought people were as beautiful as the scenery that surrounded them. I remember walking with my family around London. I was stopping to take pictures of the two story red buses that I thought were only in movies, staring at the worn out brick buildings around me, and taking in the beautiful city.
While walking through the small area I was in, there was a sweet and delicious aroma that was faint in the air. Across the street from me there was a bakery, it was built in the same worn out brick as the rest of the silent town I was in. I ran over to the bakery, leaving my distracted family at the church, my mind set on finding a delicious treat as I peered through the window in front of me. The sweet smell of bread and pastries had clouded any other thought that was in my mind. Whilst I was staring through the window, about to walk into the door, I heard commotion adjacent to me. I looked over my shoulder, already halfway in the bakery, and saw nothing. I remained on my journey throughout the store,looking at all of the colorful variations of different types of breads and cookies. Realizing I didn’t have any money, I walked out of the bakery, and began to look for my parents. I headed back towards the church that was across the street, however, I didn’t see them anywhere. I looked in the church and its surrounding buildings, feeling creeped out by the calm, yet ominous atmosphere of the old building. A crystal chandelier hung at the top of the church and it brought to life the intricate details of the building, I knew they couldn't have been far.
I was 7 years old, in a different country, without a phone. After getting distracted by the beauty of the church, I ran into the closest store I could find and started asking the adults for help. The majority of the adults I had begged to help me were native to London, however, none of them helped me. I was ignored by at least 4 adults while I was inconsolable looking for my parents. I was in awe at the fact that none of the people around me were trying to help, I was a small, awkward 7 year old who was incapable of helping myself. I was running around for about an hour when I finally gave up and sat on a nearby bench, I was hyperventilating, and the sweet smell of the bakery that I was so infatuated with made me sick. I felt isolated and scared, my parents had installed the thought of “stranger danger” into my mind from a very young age so by this time I was assuming the worst. As my head was in between my legs while I was curled up on a dusty wooden bench I heard a familiar voice yell my name. Soon after I felt the embrace of someone I knew was my mother. I was beyond relieved and I sobbed even harder into her arms and apologized profusely. My family was beyond grateful that nothing bad had happened to me and had even taken me back to the bakery and bought me whatever I wanted.
Years later I am still horrified at the fact that no one would even look at a helpless child. The world is filled with people who are too self involved, which is something even I am guilty of, but when the world is full of so many people, you realize how much of our lives are about human connection. Somewhere along the way I think we lost the capacity to love, which was given to us for a reason. It is impossible to give love to others when you don’t feel loved yourself. I am trying my best to reflect that philosophy in my own life, but it is still very hard. You surround yourself with people who love you and help you in times of need. It is hard to live in a loveless world, but love is all around us and will find us when we need it most.
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