When Kids Push Boundaries

Trusting your parenting instincts isn’t always easy – but sometimes it is.

This is one of those stories that has been told and retold so often in our family that I’m not sure how much is my imperfect memory and how much is hearing the retelling by other family members and their imperfect memories.

Anyway, this happened when I was 4 or 5 years old. Go ahead, say it: I probably have no actual memory of this; what I know is hearing the retelling, over and over and over again.

So. At the time of this event, we lived in Queens, NY. Every Sunday (or many Sundays, anyway), we’d take the subway to the Greek church in Astoria. Do you know how many Greeks lived in Astoria in the 1960s? Me neither. But the answer is generally “a lot.”

So there we were, on the subway platform – my mother, my father and me. My father was likely not paying very close attention. This is also how he and my uncle actually forgot my dog at the groomer’s once, but that’s a story for another day.

My mother, on the other hand, noticed everything. That old saying about having “eyes in the back of her head” fit her perfectly.

I was, as children are known to do, pushing my boundaries. Specifically, I was edging ever-closer to the yellow safety line at the edge of the platform.

My mother kept pulling me back while giving me “the look.” Both were marginally successful.

We heard the train approaching but couldn’t see it yet. I’d now edged close enough to the line that I managed to lose one of my shoes. It tumbled onto the tracks.

To say that my mother was angry is like saying a hurricane is a sun shower. I’m sure at this point, my dad may have started paying attention.

As I recall – or have been told – a soldier of some sort (Army, Navy or some other branch of the service, but I feel like he was Navy) was standing on the other side of me. Seeing what happened, and probably noticing my mother’s grimace, he (this really did happen) jumped down onto the tracks and retrieved my shoe as the train came into view.

Yes, he made it safely back up onto the platform, my one shoe in his hand.

Decades later, I still believe that he thought he was saving my life. Which, knowing my mom, he likely was.

In retelling this story, I am reminded of the constant, exhausting and necessary watchfulness that defines parenting. The pulling back. The repeated warnings. The “look.” The way love so often shows up as vigilance – and, yes, sometimes as frustration.

Children test boundaries. It’s how they learn.

Parents hold the boundaries. It’s how children stay safe.

And every once in a while, the world steps in with a bit of unexpected grace – a stranger who helps, a moment that ends well, a story you’re lucky enough to tell later.

To that unknown serviceman, wherever he may be – thank you for becoming part of our family’s story.

And to every parent standing near the edge – on a subway platform or anywhere else – trust that instinct to pull your child back one more time.

It matters more than they know.

Dawne Richards is a humor columnist based in Pompano Beach, Florida. She rarely rides the subway anymore.