The baby had barely anything on - in the bitter cold and wind.
Earlier this evening I headed down the hall toward the library exit with two books I'd put on "hold" and a couple of weekend movies. I wasn't looking forward to going out in the wind and hellish cold.
I fumbled in my coat pocket for my car keys before I got to the double doors, and that's when I saw the baby's tiny bare foot. It wiggled right out from under a thin receiving blanket that covered the rest of her as she lay in a carrier on the floor next to the wall.
The baby's mother, a tall young woman, stood in front of the baby, as though waiting; and a little boy stood there with her, foot up against the wall. The mother knew I'd seen the little foot protruding, and said, "She's all right."
I took it to mean that she didn't think the baby was too cold.
The baby smiled and waved her arms. I told the mom her baby was adorable and asked her name.
"Kinsley," the mother said.
She picked up the blanket to toss it over the entire carrier and I could see that the baby wore only a tee shirt and pink stretch pants. No sweater or socks or hat. She stuck her little foot out again, and the mother said, "She's all right."
It's hard not to worry about children. They seem so vulnerable. I wanted to believe the mother; but when I got in the car and turned on the heater, I said to myself, "I hope she is all right. I hope she really is."