I worry because I am a mother. You don’t have to be a mom to worry about children. You just have to have compassion.

I did my share of worrying over the last week for a little five-year-old I’ve never met. The worry came just picturing the anguish the parents of a child held hostage must have felt.

Through all of the news reports on the child’s condition, I worried.

Thankfully, I wasn’t worrying over my own child. I wasn’t afraid for his safety and I wasn’t afraid he’d never come home to me. But, I will admit, that I have worried about those things on at least one occasion.

My son attends W.S. Neal Middle School. When he’s there, I don’t worry.

Living in a small, close-knit community like we do, we have the luxury of personally knowing at least a handful of people at the school our children attend. I am that lucky, too.

I know that the teachers who are there are watching my son and are keeping his safety on their minds constantly. He’s not special — they do that for every child on campus.

When the closing bell rings for the day, my child gets on a big yellow bus that will deliver him to the driveway of my home.

I don’t worry when he’s on the bus. The driver is also a friend of mine. I know she would never do anything that would put my son in danger.

I’m a mom, therefore I worry. It’s my job. I do worry if my son’s pants will pass the uniform code at school and I worry that he may have forgotten to brush his teeth before going to school.

But I don’t worry while he’s under the care of the loving teachers, administrators and bus drivers that do their part in allowing me to hug my child at the end of every day.

Lisa Tindell is a news reporter for The Atmore Advance.