At eighty pounds, with a fierce independent streak, Aiden doesn't stand out as a likely target for child abduction. But yesterday, when I slipped into Home Depot for a small purchase, my six-year-old grandson paused long enough on the riding lawnmowers to lull me into a false sense of security as I searched for ant traps. In a heartbeat he was gone.

I could hear his voice reverberating off the steel beams and tried to gauge in which aisle of the fifty thousand square foot store I should begin my search.

Oblivious to decorum, I mustered up a deep breath and hollered his name. It didn't surprise me at all that there was no response and I was under no misconception; he heard me, but life was far too exciting in a store stocked with millions of dollars of inventory, to be bothered with Grandma.

Now if Grandma was just thirty years younger she would have chased him down, but I had already conceded my inability to keep up with the dynamo several years ago. I marched over to customer service and asked the charming young woman behind the counter if she would be so kind as to go on the loudspeaker and tell the brat to come to the front of the store. She sounded great, like some late night broadcaster; her announcement was of the highest professional quality.

"Aiden, please come to the service desk. Your grandmother is waiting for you at the front of the store."

I smirked as the sales associate hung up. I knew that the announcement would get his egotistical attention.

"How old is Aiden?" she asked.

"Six," I said, thanking her as I spotted the demon peering around the corner, then pausing, long enough to yank at a display of Venetian blinds.

Gotcha, I thought, as I proceeded to tear into him with my canned Granny speech.

Stopping long enough in the lighting department to grab a few light bulbs, I didn't notice the sea of orange vests that encircled me. It took me by surprise. Now I've never had a problem with customer service in Home Depot, but the number of people suddenly ready to assist me was overwhelming. When I dismissed that theory, I immediately thought that my little darling had broken something very expensive.

From the moment that the sales associate learned that there was a missing child in the store, Home Depot went into lockdown. Staff went to every exit and would not allow anyone to leave the store with a small child.

I am both humbled by the security policies that exist to protect children, just as much as I am terrified by the threat to children and the bubble we create to try to protect our most cherished assets.

The scars from my childhood, the assaults on my innocence, all happened inside my home. But, if I got lost in a store, I was taught to tell an adult and they would help me. Much has changed.

As a Grandma, I'm more protective than the parents. Still, I know that our kids need to test their boundaries; punch holes in rules and expand their horizons. Being afraid all the time is like putting shackles on any hope that we can raise our children to be strong, self-sufficient adults.

Children need to fall down and bleed a little and they also need to be able to solve their own problems. Kids must have freedom to expand their world, develop their own neighbourhood societies during a twilight game of 'Simon says,' before the universal signal, 'street lights are on' sends them scurrying home.

As we tuck them into bed, fed, washed and dreamily at peace, we pray together.

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep........

If not tomorrow, then another tomorrow, our babies will be helping new babies grow up in this very scary and very confusing world.

Grandma has her own prayer.

"Dear God, oh God, oh God! Thanks for giving me the wisdom not to kill the little brat today. Thank you for giving me the gift of years and my dubious patience to know this phase too, shall pass. Please watch over our little boy. I love him. "

Amen.