I believe people should consider the lives of others sacred before they can expect others to give them the same respect.
I didn’t think twice when I saw the poster of a missing person before 1999. Around that time, I lived in Gilbert, Arizona, which is a suburb of nearby Mesa. On January 2, 1999, Mikelle Biggs and her younger sister asked their mother for money after they thought they heard an ice cream truck down the block. At 5:50 p.m., they waited near Toltec Street and El Moro Avenue. After waiting for a while, her sister became cold, and returned to their house for a coat. Their mother sent her back for Mikelle, but she was nowhere to be found. She hasn’t been heard from since, and there are few leads in her case.
Going into town, I couldn’t help but notice all the posters with her face on them everywhere. Until then, I had shared the same opinion as everyone else when it comes to missing people: “If it’s not my loved one, why should I care?” Something about her case moved me to find out more about the cause. Years passed, and I wondered what became of this little girl. I couldn’t imagine her suffering a tragic end, but it turns out such a thing is a common occurrence.
I put myself in her family’s shoes, and the thought of losing my daughter, or someone else I cared about, horrified me. From then on, I stormed the Internet to find out as much as I could. This opened the floodgate for thousands of other cases like Mikelle’s; some of which were even more horrifying. I felt trapped without a clue as to what one individual could accomplish. I was neither a police officer, nor someone in the position to make a difference. However, bureaucratic roadblocks standing in my way wouldn’t stop my pursuit.
The stories of others who devoted most of their lives to something they believed in inspired me to do the same. Perhaps I’m too idealistic thinking every man, woman, and child who has gone missing can be recovered alive, or to allow their families to give them the proper burial. In the hustle and bustle of life, we sometimes forget to remember our fellow man. As population numbers boom, the value of a single human life tumbles in the eyes the world; however, to those who love them, their worth grows with each passing day.
If you don’t think the life of a missing person matters, put yourself in the shoes of those who love them. Then you’ll understand why I feel this people I would’ve never met from families that don’t know I exist. I find solace when I hear that one of them returned to their families. It’s a feeling I wish to experience without having to deal with the torment of losing someone I love. As the holiday season approaches, I hope Santa Claus brings all those lost souls home.
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