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Cell-u-lar

January 2, 2015

A military leader who has completed tours in Iraq, Afghanistan and Mongolia.  A seasoned veteran Detective on the Police Force.  An extreme canyoneering and climbing instructor.  Put them all together and what have you got?  No match for two 4-year-olds, that’s what.  

 

After Christmas my husband, son, and son-in-law put it to the test. It happened when they decided to check out something stored in an out-of-the-way holding cell in the basement of the police station.  With the detective’s two four-year-olds in tow, they descended into the chilly, little- used cellar.  The three men were occupied in the holding cell when they heard an ominous sound. They turned around just in time to see the children slam the cell door shut.  Click went the automatic lock. 

 

The concrete cubicle had a steel door with a reinforced steel screen from which they stared out at the small children in disbelief.  The key, of course, was inside with them. Naturally they reached for their phones, but to no avail—there was no cell coverage.  They slipped the key under the door and tried to talk the children through the unlocking process.  When that was too difficult, the men demonstrated how to use pliers for leverage to turn the key; and then passed the needle nose pliers under the door.  It was a no-go. Not only were the courageous men trapped in the cell, but the children were stuck in the hall passage—the door at the top of the stairs also locked when it closed. 

 

The frigid temperature of the basement was foremost on their minds, but other scenario’s began to flood their thoughts. There was a toilet in a corner of the cell, but nothing for the cold, hungry children to use in the hall. There was not much chance of being found—no one knew they were there and nobody would have cause to check the basement.  The strong surly men began to despair. It was a fortunate turn of affairs when the Detective’s phone temporarily showed a half bar of service and he texted his partner an S.O.S.  Shortly they were rescued. Small prayers with an enormous result. Before they left, the men took a selfie--or should I say Cell-fie, to remember the lessons they learned that day. 

 

Today is New Year’s Day and I find myself contemplating another year of my life.  Will my resolves dissolve within a week or two?  Or will I be able to make any development that will last?  None of my grand resolutions have made it to the finish line.  Maybe if I pick a few small things to improve?  Small things can bring us to our knees as my four-year-old grandchildren can attest.  And small things can make the difference for good as well.  Think I’ll choose just one trifling little mission this year and call it good.  

 

Happy New Year to all!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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