“We found it. Alive"

I look down at my twig-covered hands and try to stay awake at a formal function. A few hours ago I arrived from the forest. I smell of repellents, I have sad eyes and my neck is bitten by mosquitoes. They look at me with disapproval, and I want to scream. The fact is that yesterday we learned that a child had died. There must have been a lot of children killed all over the world yesterday, but I don't know that. And for us, yesterday, the hope of saving a very specific child died. Her name was Anna-Alena Lomanova. She was only two years old, she drowned.
"How do you live with it?" - people often ask, plunging into the life of search engines. We experience severe pain, cry with joy, figure out how we can develop further, learn from our own and others' mistakes. We have already learned not to give up. Soon there will be the first wedding in the detachment and the first child will be born to a couple who met on the search. We are the volunteers of the search squad Liza Alert. The people here are different. Some honestly write that they want to beat the highest justice and expect, having got into a difficult situation, to receive the same help. For some, a detachment is an attempt to erase the pain of losing a loved one. Not everyone goes to the forest, there is a lot of work at the computer and on the phone, because the basis of searches is information. If you draw a portrait of volunteer Liza Alert, the word “indifferent” will not be there. The missing person does not care what age or social status the person will save him. How exactly did that big step take place from a repost on social networks to a real trip in search of a lost child? Taken from the lizaalert.org forum: “Conscience… Awareness at a certain X-hour that you have this feeling, and in a fair amount. And as a result, an attempt to save yourself from the painful feeling: “Why didn’t you, the infection, tear off your ass?”
Another important question is how to stay in the detachment after another tragedy. How to sleep after a dead five-year-old boy was pulled out of the water? How to learn to restrain emotions when you see the irritated and indifferent eyes of an official, policeman or rescuer of the Ministry of Emergencies. How to find words when parents ask in a trembling voice: “Is he alive? Will he be found?" I have no answers to these questions, everyone copes as best they can.
Sometimes we are faced with completely non-trivial situations. A disabled person calls the search squad: “I’m in the rain, my stroller is jammed, help.” Why did he call us? Someone gave me a number. There are a lot of state hotlines, emergency services, where you should call. And the fact that they stop believing them scares me to hiccups.
Now about our children. They are really ours. When you pasted dozens of orientations or think about him all the time while searching in the forest, this child will no longer be a stranger. That is why the story of Anya Shkaptsova hit us with destructive force. We went to Bryansk twice, desperately trying to raise the whole city in search of the baby. And now the terrible comment of the official representative of the Investigative Committee, Sergei Markin, falls out on the network: Anya was killed by her own dad, and the Internet, like a madman, gives out one disgusting detail after another.
But there is something else. Dasha Sotnikova got lost in the forest for a short time. But the picture, like her, alive, wrapped in someone's jacket, passed from hand to hand to be carried across the stream, remains in you forever. As well as the crunch in the area of ​​​​the ribs, when her dad, seeing his daughter alive, rushes to hug you with tears of gratitude. And the views of volunteers, their smiles, feelings and words on the radio: “Found. Live".