My two older kids have been attending VBS at a big Baptist church near our house. They have a few friends and acquaintances there, so I am comfortable leaving them for a few hours in the morning.
The security system is a wrist band with a unique code on it, kind of like one you might find at an amusement park. They give the parent an identical band to the child’s and that is what is needed to leave the building with your children. Instead of wearing the bands, I just put them in my pocket.
For the third day in a row I went to pick up my girls, always in a rush to get them out and home for lunch. I went through the line, the girls holding up their arms, and me holding out my folded papers for the door monitors to verify. The line usually moved pretty fast, but this time the lady grabbed my girls’ arms and shouted, “We have mismatched numbers!” There was real concern on her face.
“That’s strange. These are the ones they gave me,” I insisted.
She looked at me as if for sure I was a convicted felon and began pulling the girls away. She said something to a man standing on the other side of the line that sounded like, “Taking them downtown.” Was she serious? I thought I must have heard wrong, but it evidently shocked some sense into me!
“Hey, wait a minute!” I yelled, still hanging on to my daughter’s other arm. “Maybe these are yesterday’s tags.” I reached into my back pocket and, sure enough, . . . I pulled out other tags and handed them to the lady. They matched!
“Oh good!” she said. “I hated to send you down town.” Still I think I must have heard wrong. There are police on the premises, so surely they could verify that these were my children without locking me up!
I threw my tags away and made a mental note to be more careful with the placement of tomorrow’s tags, lest I be held in shackles. Really, though, it did give me a sense of security that someone with mal intent would have a hard time leaving there with my children!

Wow, I’ve never heard of that before. A far cry from the days when my mom dropped us off at VBS for hours with no high tech system. But I guess it is good!
As frustrating as it could have been, it’s good that this lady took her job seriously. One can never be too safe these days!
I agree with Hattie! I have found people with high security measures really have no purpose because they don’t follow procedure. I honestly don’t think this is far fetched in today’s society. You really can’t be too careful anymore.
Oh my goodness. Crime up at the VBS…so glad you found the tickets and your man didn’t have to spring you from the joint {laughing with ya}…
So glad you found the right bands! It is good they take the children’s safety so seriously!
it kinda helps that your kids unmistakably look like you, esther…. did the lady stop to consider? lol
Wow, that is pretty remarkable. My church has pretty strict security for our childrens’ area and have a whole “Safe Sanctuary” book of security protocols and go to every measure to ensure the kids are safe from both the workers and intruders. We haven’t put in wrist bands though!
Wow! I guess it is good to know that they take such things seriously! I’m glad you found the right bands though!
Our church has the same system on Sundays and I always have a little chuckle when a number is flashed up on the giant screens for a parent to fetch one of their children. And then you see parents all glance at their wrists in unison before one jumps up embarrassed in the middle of a preach. I heard today that some of the kids have worked out how to “escape” from kids’ ministry through a hole in the fence. Which children? The elders’ kids…
Whoa! Now that’s security! I’m glad you didn’t get taken downtown. Though, that would have made for a memorable blog photo. 🙂
Just popped back and read some of your older posts. As someone who was once the children’s ministry director when someone actually attempted to abduct a child I can tell you that the mix-ups may seem funny, but you’re REALLY glad for that security on that one day when trouble comes.
{my heart still races thinking about it}
-Jomona