Our brush with kidnappers

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving I received a phone call while at work.  Someone tried to kidnap Cali.



And time stopped for a second.  What?
Cali had been playing in the front yard of our next door neighbor's house with their granddaughter.  A common occurrence.  According to Cali, and then West who had heard it from the mother of the other little girl, the scene played out like this:
Cali and her friend were in the neighbor's front yard playing.  A white van pulled up (what is it with white vans? Is it a requirement for this sort of thing?) and a man got out and told the girls to "get in the van."  They, being the smart girls that they are, then rushed into the neighbor's garage.  Now, what I got from West, the mother of the neighbor girl said it was at this point that she showed up at the house and was able to get the license plate number, and she called the police.  I imagined them driving off and her somehow having the notion and the frame of mind to write the plate number down.
I left work and B.A.W.L.E.D.  I completely and utterly broke down with giant tears and racking sobs as I drove.  Everything that I had ever deemed important, everything I had every prayed, or pleaded, or begged for in my life, suddenly seemed so petty compared to the safety of my children.  A safety I took for granted, and now that it was threatened in a very real way... I begged for forgiveness for ever thinking that anything meant more than the safety of my family, a blessing that I no longer take for granted.
I called one of my co-workers, an investigator with Medicaid Fraud where I currently work, but former P.D.  I asked him if charges would be placed for just trying to take my daughter, or if this was one of those "oh well, they didn't actually get her so there's nothing that we can really do about  it" situations.  Apparently attempted kidnapping is a big deal.  As in, a first degree felony big deal. 
So I called the police department to find out what was going on.  After I got home and hugged the living daylights out of every one of my circus, let alone Cali.  I couldn't hold them long enough.
I was told by the officer that the charge was not going to be attempted kidnapping, but would be charged as suspicious vehicle.  I was a little confused and more than put off, and though I tried to stay polite, I think the officer could tell I wasn't pleased. So he asked if he could explain why. 
Firstly, the man who got out of the van came into my yard.  Cali pointed out to the policeman, and to me exactly where he stood.  It was almost to my front porch.  My thought is, if someone wants to kidnap a child, they wouldn't come clear in to a yard, they would stay closer to the street for a get away.  According to what the officer learned from Cali, the man never actually made a move towards the girls.  There was about 30 feet between them, and a waist high wood fence. 
Secondly, there were two men.  One that stayed in the van, and the second who came into our yard.  It's not clear who said "get in the van" to whom.  It very well could have been the man in the van speaking to the man in the yard.  Not either directing it to the girls.  It's not known, nor is there anyway to tell.  The officer interjected here that the girls did exactly what they should have done.  They didn't stop to question the situation.  They saw a strange van, a strange man, heard the words "get in the van" and the took off to safety. They did it right.
Thirdly, when the mother of the other girl drove up, the van didn't leave.  It hung around for a little bit.  As in, they didn't act like they were being caught doing something wrong.  Had they been caught doing something wrong, they would have driven off as fast as they could.  But they hung around, and this is how she was able to get the plate number.
After hearing this explanation, I realized that the neighbor had probably fed off the excitement of the girls, and blown the situation a bit out of proportion.  To my relief.
We have since set into action stricter measures, as in, no playing in the front yard.  Back yard only now.  And the kids understand the need for it.  Which is good. I am so thankful that my child knew to not mess around with that situation.  She stayed calm and collected, and didn't over react.  She answered the police man's questions with exactness, telling him where the van had parked, where the man had stood, and was able to give a description of the color of his hair and the clothes that he was wearing.  And then she told the officer that she just wanted to "kick that man."
Oh Cali.
We don't know exactly why that van was there.  We probably never will.
I'm thankful for the police officers who came to help, but who were able to be realistic about the situation, and were able to help me to be realistic about it also.  I'm thankful for their patience with my phone call and their concern for the well being of my child.  I'm thankful that my daughter is home.  Safe.  And not just her, but the entire circus, every day.  I can not express it enough.  My family is safe.  And I hold them a little longer at night, and speak a little kinder to them in the rush of my day.  Because, along with all the other life's lessons in this, the number one is that I have learned in a very deep and real way, that nothing, nothing, matters more than they do.