Return to Sender: Temporal Death in our Lives

A 7-year old girl went missing on Tuesday in Salt Lake City. Hser Nay Moo was last seen at 2pm, playing in front the apartment where she lived with her mom, dad, and two brothers. She was wearing a pink dress, a pink coat and pink shoes.

When I arrived at work early Wednesday morning, I was handed a flyer with her name, photo, and physical description. A few hours later the Amber Alert was finally called in. As police, government officials, and volunteers began to assemble at a local LDS church building among family, friends, and the media to begin a massive search effort, I was only a block and a half away, just arriving on scene for a cardiac call. Our ambulance was the first there. As we rolled the stretcher to the front door, we heard a woman crying loudly inside. We entered the home. Making our way to the back bedroom, we soon came to the side of an older man, lying on his back in his bed, his wife sobbing uncontrollably at his side. He wasn't breathing. I reached down and took his hand. His skin was cold, his body was rigid, and I couldn't find a pulse. I hurriedly opened our medical pack to retrieve an oral airway and a bag valve mask, but my partner stopped me. We were already too late. The arriving sheriff took the grieving wife aside; we made sure the coroner would be notified. Then we went back out to our ambulance, put our things away, and called dispatch to let them know we were available for another call. I never knew it would happen that fast. Almost as soon as it started, it was over.

The search for the missing little girl didn't last 24 hours. Thursday, as the sun dawned, local police found the body of young Hser Nay. She had never left the apartment complex. She was killed by one of her neighbors in a basement bathroom. As word spread, the community who had rallied to find her had no other option but to grieve. A small memorial grew at the complex, as people came by to leave pink candles, pink flowers, pink stuffed animals, and their tears. One elementary school teacher left a hand-written note addressed to their former student. It read: "I never would have guessed that the quiet little girl I saw on her first day of school--putting your backpack on the desk and keeping it there all day--would turn into the girl who dumped soap all over the bathroom floor so she could go 'ice' skating... It was really hard to have a bad day when you were around." Hser Nay's funeral service will be held in the same church building that had served as command post for all the volunteer searchers who had hoped to find her well.

The father of the girl, too freshly informed that he had lost his only daughter, was forced to find words enough to share with the television crews and newspaper writers. "I cannot replace her... I loved her most," the devastated man was able to manage. Then, after a moment of silent reflection, he added "We ask the Lord will be with us to lift us through this difficult trial in our lives." The six remaining remembers of the Moo family spent Thursday night reading scriptures together and praying. As family and friends gathered one by one in the little apartment to pay their respects, they began to sing hymns together. People kept coming, and the family sang songs of love long into the night with all those who would join them. I wish I could respond to such a terrible trial with such a kind spirit. I pray that I will never have to.

What would you do? How do we cope with a world that will end too soon for us, even sooner for many good people that we know and care about? How do you process the deaths of countless others that we only read about in the paper or see on the news? It's different for every one of us, personal, changing. It's different today than it was on Monday. It requires faith. It is made easier by hope. And, I think, facing the truth of our own eventual return to our Heavenly Father who sent us here can only make us smarter, stronger, braver individuals. We're here for a reason, for a purpose. I hope we aren't wasting the short time we have. I hope we hurt when others hurt... I hope we love others, each person around us. I hope we cry, sometimes, like I am now, and that we firm our resolve and square our shoulders and press on, doing good in the world and reaching out to others, reaching out to the best person in ourselves. I hope we do. God bless.


3 Good Things-
Loved Ones
The United States of America
Police Officers

Overrated: Fear