“What do you mean my son got lost in the forest?!” I screamed into the phone like a crazy person.

I remember that moment clearly. When I heard that my son was lost and that I might never see his smile again, I nearly fainted. Fear shackled my throat. I couldn’t just stand there waiting—I had to do something!

Patrick and his classmates went on a trip to the forest, and somehow, his friend got lost. Patrick went looking for him, but the teacher was completely irresponsible and didn’t even realize my child was alone in the dark forest at night! Just thinking that something bad might have happened to him… it was unbearable!

I rushed there immediately. The police were already searching, but it didn’t feel like enough, so I started looking for him on my own. It was dark, cold, and terrifying. I got hurt pretty badly and was starting to lose hope when I saw **this glove**! Oh my gosh, I knew it was Patrick’s!

I knew he was nearby, but I had no idea how the glove could help me find him. Then I looked closer at it, and suddenly, **I knew where my child was!** How did he end up there?

I parked my car haphazardly at the edge of the forest, leaving the engine running as I dashed into the thicket. The headlights of my car illuminated a small part of the forest, but beyond that, it was pitch black. I could hear the faint shouts of the search party and the barking of dogs, but they were all distant echoes in the vast, ominous woods.

Every branch that snapped under my feet sounded like a gunshot in the stillness of the night. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a reminder of the urgency of my mission. I shouted Patrick’s name repeatedly, my voice growing hoarse and desperate. I refused to let the darkness and fear consume me. My baby was out there somewhere, and I was going to find him.

As I stumbled through the underbrush, my foot caught on a root, and I went tumbling to the ground. Pain shot through my ankle, but I ignored it, pushing myself up. That’s when I saw it—the glove. Patrick’s glove. It was lying on the ground, half-buried in the leaves.

I grabbed it, clutching it to my chest. The familiar blue knit, the one with the tiny superhero logo he loved so much. I knew it was his. But how did this glove tell me where he was?

I examined it closely. The glove was damp, and there were traces of mud and small leaves stuck to it. But then, I noticed something strange. The mud on the glove wasn’t just any mud; it had a distinct reddish tint. It reminded me of the small stream with red clay banks that Patrick and I had explored the last time we visited this forest.

A spark of hope ignited in my heart. If Patrick had crossed the stream, he might be on the other side, possibly looking for a way back or trying to find his friend. I pocketed the glove and limped towards the direction of the stream, my determination stronger than ever.
The sound of running water reached my ears, and soon, I saw the faint shimmer of the moonlight reflecting off the stream. I called out his name again, louder this time. The forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting with me for a response.
“Mom?” The voice was faint, but it was unmistakable.

I turned towards the sound, and there he was, standing on the other side of the stream, looking scared and cold but unharmed. Tears of relief streamed down my face as I waded across the shallow water to reach him.

I pulled Patrick into my arms, holding him tightly as if I would never let go. “I found you, baby. I found you,” I whispered, choking on my tears.

He clung to me, his small body trembling. “I was so scared, Mom. I tried to find Tommy, but I got lost.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe now. We’ll find Tommy together,” I reassured him.

With Patrick safe, we joined the search party and found Tommy not far from where Patrick had been. The two boys were reunited, and I made sure they both knew how much they were loved and how proud I was of their bravery.

As we made our way back to the edge of the forest, the first light of dawn began to break through the trees, casting a hopeful glow on our path. I held Patrick’s hand tightly, promising myself that I would never let him out of my sight again.

In the end, it wasn’t just the glove that led me to Patrick—it was the bond between a mother and her child, a connection so strong that it could guide me through the darkest night and the deepest fear. I had found my son, and nothing would ever take him away from me again.