As a child it felt like getting lost was the end of the world. If you didn’t know where you where going, or even where you were, then surely you had failed. I think back to those few times that I would get lost in Walmart. I would look around frantically for the sight of anyone familiar. Most of the times, my mother would be only a isle or two away, but it felt like miles. My heart would race as I thought of what to do. Then, just as I would be ready to run off in search of my lost mother, there she would be. She would always act so calm about it. Like it wasn’t the end of the world...but, when I first looked around to see my mom wasn’t there, I was already planning my new life. I’d say things like,” If I can’t find her in three minutes I’ll have to just live without her...by then she must be gone...”, in my head. Of course, that is quite the mental leap to make, but as a child it only seems logical. Being lost was the end. In this case, losing my mother was the end of my childhood. I was determined to leave that Walmart an adult right up until she walked up to me with the most carefree smile I thought I’d ever saw. But, now I know. Being lost is not an end but a beginning. A chance to start something a new.