At the top of an escalator was a scrawny 3 or 4-year-old boy whimpering as he nervously tried to put a foot on the moving steps. His mother was halfway down and getting further away, shouting to him in a foreign language. I walked over, picked the boy up under his arms, got on the escalator and carefully set him down beside me. He stood stiff as a statue and stared at his mother as we rode the escalator down, then I picked him up and placed him on solid ground. I was expecting to get whacked by the mother’s purse, but I got a better surprise – she joyously thanked me, a lot!