Dear Dr. Suess,
Too often in life, we step over the little guys to reach our goals. This isn't always intentional — sometimes we do it with out thinking. Sometimes we think that they won't notice or really care, or that because everyone else does it, they won't mind if you do it as well. Your book, Horton Hears A Who, showed me to a new way of thinking.
In my everyday life as a high schooler, I see people being pushed around because they're smaller. Not necessarily physically, but perhaps one person isn't very popular, or maybe someone isn't as intelligent as most of the other students. These people are the Whos in my school. They are the people who everyone budges in front of in the lunch line, they are the last people picked in sports, they are the anonymous, whether by choice or otherwise. Few of us even notice them.
In Horton Hears A Who, it is only because of Horton's keen sense of hearing and great compassion that the Whos of Whoville are saved from death and destruction many times over. But since the other animals couldn't hear the Whos, they assumed that they weren't really there. I've found in my personal experiences that very rarely does anyone hear the cries of the little guys, nor do many even bother to listen. Most are like the kangaroo, thinking that if something isn't loud enough to hear clearly and easily, then it isn't worth listening to at all. They suffer from the Me First disorder.
Many people act under the misconception that being unheard and unnoticed means that one is unimportant. However, your book showed me otherwise. When the other animals of the forest tried to throw the speck of dust on which all the Whos of Whoville resided into a boiling caldron of Beezlenut oil, Horton told them that their one hope for survival was to be heard. And it was only due to the tiny shout of the tiniest Who that they were saved, for no matter how much noise the others made, it wasn't enough. It took all of them, small and smaller, to be heard. The smallest of them made the difference.
In my life, I hope I can be a Horton, lending an open ear and a large heart to whomever requires it, no matter what they look like, or who they hang out with, or even their size. After all, "a person's a person no matter how small."