I was lost briefly as a child. I was in sand dunes. Everywhere I looked was the same, and nothing was familiar. At one stage I saw my older sister looking around from the top of a dune, but she didn't see me, and the wind was so loud she couldn't hear my screaming. I knew, really, really knew, I was lost forever.
Of course, in the way of children, I got over my fear the second I was found and moved on to the fear of what was going to happen when my overwrought mother caught up with me. But I remember the fear every time I hear of a missing person. Every time, it comes back. There is no worse feeling.
And so I pray, every day, this little prayer:
O Lord, Let the lost be found.
Whether on the land,
Or on the sea,
In the city,
Or under the ground,
Let the lost be found.