In Surprised by Children, Harold Myra writes:

One afternoon my older brother Johnny and I were walking home from school when we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by four older boys we didn't know. Johnny was a good fighter, but they pushed us into a field, threw ropes around us, and shoved us down on the ground.

"What did we do?" we demanded. "We didn't do anything to you."

They laughed, tying us up, tangling us together, cinching the knots tight. They thoroughly enjoyed themselves, taunting us and pulling on the ropes.

Then the bullies left us in the secluded field—just left us trussed up. We yelled at them to free us, but they were soon gone.

At first a wave of relief rolled over me. They're gone! Now we can squirm free. We yanked at the ropes, thinking we could surely get loose somehow. But we couldn't. We strained and strained, feeling panic building as it started to get dark.

We lay there as the light slowly vanished. The moon and stars appeared. We wondered how anyone could find us in the dark and how long this could go on.

At long, long last, under the evening sky, we heard our father's voice. He had searched all along the way to school and found us in the field.