While taking a trip down memory lane recently, I suddenly came across a fearful memory lodged there. When I was three, I was in a busy store with my parents, holding on to my mother’s hand, when I looked up and saw it was not my mother. I think the woman was as startled as I was. Panic time! In a few moments my father found me and I was safe, but with a lifelong memory of holding on to the wrong hands.