One afternoon, while I was working outside, a woman pushing an empty stroller approached me, looking very worried.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Have you seen my daughter?" she pleaded. "She's three years old, wearing a red flowered shirt and a knee-length skirt."
"No, I haven't," I replied.
"Where is my daughter? I've lost my daughter!" she burst into tears.
"Don't worry," I said, trying to comfort her. "Maybe she's looking at the fish or pets somewhere. Where and when did you last see her?"
"Just now," she sobbed. "She was right behind me when we left the pet department."
I stopped my work immediately. I searched around the fish ponds but found no trace of the girl. Then, I hurried toward the pet department.
As I passed a display of dog kennels, I heard barking coming from one of them. It was just a display model, so why was there a dog inside? I bent down to look.
"Whoa—a golden-haired puppy!" I exclaimed.
At that moment, the "dog" raised its head and looked at me.
"Aha! Not a dog, but a child! Come quick! Your daughter might be in here!" I called out loudly to the young mother.
She came running, bent down, and peered inside.
"Yes, yes! That's my daughter!" she cried, tears still streaming down her face.
Seeing her mother, the little girl barked again from inside the kennel. Her mother barked back in reply, her tears mixing with a relieved smile.
"Mommy! Let's play hide and seek!" the daughter said from her hiding spot.
I couldn't help but laugh as I looked at the kennel. I imitated what some mothers do, calling out, "1, 2, 3! Come on out!"
I examined the kennel. It had a pointed roof and wooden sides. The door was about eighteen inches high and ten inches wide—it looked just like a tiny house.