The Three-Year-Old Adventurer

The summer of 1974 was one of the most scary, traumatic, memorable, and miraculous times in my family history with Carol and Paul. Let me try to summarize that summer: while living in Knoxville, Tennessee Carol was diagnosed with ovarian cancer which led to a complete hysterectomy including the loss of her uterus, ovaries and fallopian tubes thereby preventing us from having any more children; the doctors put her on an intense daily chemotherapy regimen; as her husband I was a full-time student in addition to working 40 hours a week from 11:00 pm to 7:00 am in a hospital; I had just started a full time internship at the same hospital where my wife had her surgery, so in reality, I was at the hospital from 11:00 pm to 5:00 pm or sixteen hours a day; we had a three-year-old son who needed a mother and father; I was in my final quarter of my Master of Public Health program; then I graduated and we moved back to Salt Lake City.


The story I’m about to share happened to Paul in the latter part of August, after we got back to Salt Lake and while we were staying at my parents’ house until I could find a job. It’s good to remember that Carol was still somewhat weak and bedridden and unable to do much outside the house. This is an integral part of the story.


On this particular day I had a job interview in Price, Utah, which is about 120 miles southeast of Salt Lake City, which meant I would be gone for about five or six hours, leaving mom and Carol alone with Paul. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but Paul was almost four years old and tended to act like an ordinary kid his age. In other words, as parents we had better keep an eye on him and know what he’s doing at all times so we could keep him out of trouble. In a small person’s world trouble can happen quickly and without them realizing that they are in trouble and that’s exactly what happened on this particular day.


It was a late hot afternoon, and Paul was outside playing in the backyard. Mom and Carol were in the house enjoying the coolness of the air conditioner and the peace and quiet that was in the room. Apparently, they weren’t paying quite close enough attention to Paul. That’s a bad thing to admit, but it was only a couple of minutes, and in that moment, he decided to go exploring without telling anyone. When Mom went to check on him a few minutes later, he was gone. Carol panicked.


That was the first time that Paul expressed an interest in exploring new areas. He is a grown man now and he still has this insatiable desire to go to places where he’s never been and explore the area just to see what he can see.


Mom and Dad lived on a very busy street, so Carol and I had recognized that we had to teach him about the dangers of crossing the street alone. We reinforced the fact that he should never do that without one of his parents or grandparents helping him. We thought he understood but still we recognized that he was only three years old and probably couldn’t realize the real dangers of crossing the street alone.


Mom got her car, invited Carol to get in, and together they drove around the neighborhood looking for Paul.


This entire time they were praying for his protection and that they could find him. After 20-30 minutes of driving through the neighborhood they returned home to see if he had come back. It was about this time that I got home from my interview in Price. When I walked into the house Carol was crying uncontrollably, and this obviously got my immediate attention. She told me what happened, and I became concerned.


I turned and walked out the back door determined to find my son. I probably covered the same area that mom and Carol covered. I was so confused about where to look that I only gave it a cursory search, and I wasn’t gone very long. I returned home about the same time my dad got home from work.


He listened to Mom and Carol to get a feel for the problem, then left the room and went to his bedroom, shut the door, and knelt down to pray. It was a short prayer, but that was all he needed. He took the car keys, walked out the back door and was gone for 10 minutes. When he came back, he had Paul. He was guided to the exact place where Paul was.


Paul had crossed the busy street and walked about 7 or 8 blocks down Third East. He was just enjoying himself without a care in the world. When he saw Grandpa, he hopped in the car and said, “Hi Grandpa” as though nothing was wrong.


A great reunion occurred when Paul walked into the house with Grandpa. Hugs and kisses were plentiful, joy was felt in the house, and gratitude was in the hearts of everyone.


Paul wandered off, excited about his great adventure, without realizing that he was creating danger for himself, frustration and fear in his parents and grandparents. That day, Carol and I learned a valuable lesson about teaching and guiding three-year-old children.


Happy Failing Forward,


Calvert Cazier



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