Reflections on retirement 8: Losing track of time

On Tuesday this week I cycled over to the University for a meeting I’d organised with my research team. It was a nice, sunny day – unusually warm for this time of year. As I cycled I pondered the themes arising out of our research on Serious Case Reviews.

At the reception desk of the conference centre they could find no record of my booking. After a while searching, I looked up my booking reference only to find that the meeting was on Wednesday. I had booked the room for Wednesday, told the rest of the team it was on Wednesday, and written it in my diary for Wednesday. But somehow I had got it in my mind that the meeting was on Tuesday.

So I cycled home again.

And as I cycled, I pondered the themes arising out of my time management in retirement.

It isn’t the first time I’ve failed to look at my diary, or turned up for a meeting on the wrong day, or at the wrong place or time. But somehow, being retired and not having a structured routine to my week seemed to make it less surprising on this occasion.

In the run up to my retirement, a number of people pointed out to me the challenges of managing the twin demons of boredom and busyness. So far, I haven’t suffered from the first, and don’t see any realistic prospect of it haunting me too much.

The second – busyness – seems to me a much more real adversary. When I hear myself describing to others what I’m doing with my time, and the things I am committed to, I start to wonder whether this really is retirement. In the six weeks since I stepped out of paid employment I have been on a silent retreat; visited Jordan and Sweden on child death review projects; analysed data for our Serious Case Review research programme; preached in our local church; made a leaflet display stand from recycled wood; drafted my application for a PhD; seen both my children and my parents and a number of friends; cut down some trees in the garden; spent five days in London at the Department for Education; given evidence in two court cases; and read five books.

And yet it really does feel so much calmer and more relaxed than when I was working. I am loving the freedom of waking up in the mornings and wondering what to do today; of being able to spontaneously go out for a walk with Lois; of spending time in the garden; and of saying no to any requests to take on any new projects. I value the opportunity to truly focus on a small number of ongoing projects, and give my mind to them without feeling distracted by too many other competing demands. I am appreciating the peace and beauty of Breathing Space. And I’m looking forward to the eight weeks we’re about to spend in SE Asia and New Zealand.

So, demons may flee. What I think I am experiencing is a new fullness of life. And that doesn’t leave much room for either boredom or busyness.

And it does mean that I can enjoy the fresh air and exercise of a needless cycle ride, without feeling frustrated by all the things that I could have been doing instead.

November 8, 2018

Lament Part Two

The lament I wrote last week seemed to strike a chord.

It was prompted by Lois and I watching an episode of Victoria, focused on Ireland and the potato famine. It may only have been an historical television programme, but it left us both feeling upset and angry, crushed by the sheer injustice of it all.

We were angry about the horrendous suffering experienced by so many millions; angry at the wealthy landlords trampling on the heads of the labourers while greedily holding onto their privileges and comforts; angry with the politicians callously looking after their own political interests while gambling with people’s lives; angry with the bishops, twisting religion for their own power and control, distorting the gospel, and turning a blind eye to the suffering of ordinary people.

And angry with God for creating a world in which children die of starvation and millions suffer to feed the greed and violence of others.

And we felt crushed and angry because this was not just something that happened 150 years ago, but remains a reality today: in Yemen, in Syria, in South Sudan; in China, Russia and Myanmar; and, in different ways, but much closer to home, in the UK, USA, Australia and Europe.

We hear on the news of millions starving and made homeless because of conflicts in the Middle East. And our own government continues to fuel this with arms sales to Saudi Arabia. We hear of lives ruined through gambling and addictions; of aggressive, arrogant men ignoring both laws and morality, and treating others with disdain; of big multinationals treating their workers without respect, destroying our environment, and brazenly evading and twisting tax laws; of the dignity and rights of children, women, and those who are ‘different’ being trampled on; of individuals and families in our own city left homeless, sitting in the shadow of the ever-growing forest of cranes building flash new student accommodation.

Sometimes it is right to get angry.

Sometimes it is right to lament.

November 2, 2018November 2, 2018

Lament

I look out of the window and I see

Clear, blue skies

Vibrant colours of autumn blazing

in the morning sun

Crisp frost bringing out the beauty

of our garden.

And yet I know

thick, dark clouds cover our earth

blotting out the warmth of the sun.

Devastation and despair wreak havoc

across the nations.

And where is God?

October 21, 2018October 21, 2018

God’s Gift of Rhythm

All Saints 21^st October 2018: Sermon Notes

Read Ecclesiastes 3: 1-13

Mars bar spirituality

‘it is God’s gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil’ Ecc 3: 13

Reflect on God’s gift of rhythms in life:

Rest – food, sustenance, refreshment

Play – drink, celebration

How do those work out in your life?

What are your rhythms of the day… the week… the year… seasons of life?

Sabbaths, Sabbaticals, and Jubilees

Take a look at three rhythms that God has ordained:

Sabbath – every 7^th day.

Read Exodus 20: 8-11 and Deuteronomy 5: 12-15

What do these passages tell us about the importance of a weekly rhythm? (you may want to look at Exodus 31: 12-17 and the penalties for not keeping the Sabbath) Why did God institute the Sabbath? (Look at the ‘therefore’ in each passage)

Sabbatical – Every 7^th year

Read Leviticus 25: 1-7

Jubilee – Every 50^th year (7×7)

Read Leviticus 5: 8-13

What do these two passages tell us about why God instituted Sabbath years and Jubilee years?

Read Exodus 23: 10-12

What do this passage and the previous passages tell us about God’s gift of rhythm in our lives. Think about how they relate to caring for ourselves, caring for others and caring for creation.

Fractured rhythms

What, in our society, is the biggest barrier to encountering God? Think about your own life and what gets in the way of you encountering God.

Read Isaiah 30:15,16 and John 10: 10

In what ways do my own choices and decisions take me away from God’s rhythms?

In what way does our society and culture take me away from (‘steal and kill and destroy’) God’s rhythms?

God’s promise

If we learn to align ourselves with God’s rhythms, God promises us peace, joy, life in all its fullness.

Take some time to read the following passages and remind yourself of God’s promises:

Isaiah 32: 16-20; Isaiah 58: 13,14; John 10: 10; Matt 11: 28-10 (The Message)

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

How do we align to God’s rhythm?

In Jewish tradition, there are three times of prayer each day: morning, afternoon, and evening. Jonathan Sacks, former chief Rabbi, describes these in relation to the three Patriarchs, and different approaches to prayer (Jonathan Sacks, 2009, Covenant and Conversation. Magid Books, pp129-134):

To stand – intentionally seek God, intercede: ‘Abraham got up early in the morning, went to the place where he had stood before Adonai’ (Gen 19:27)

To walk with God – taking time to ponder, meditate, commune with God: Isaac went out in the early evening to walk (ponder, meditate) in the field. (Gen 24:63)

To recognise those unexpected encounters with God – when God ‘bumps into us’: Jacob came to a certain place and stayed the night there… Then suddenly Adonai was standing there next to him; and he said, “I am Adonai, the God of Abraham, your father, and the God of Isaac.” (Gen 28: 11-13)

Some suggestions to take away:

Take some time out to reflect on your current rhythms: daily, weekly, yearly rhythms; think about the balance of work, rest and play
Make space to observe the rhythms of nature: daily rhythms; the seasons
Think about how you can incorporate rhythms of prayer in your life: to stand before God, to walk with God, to recognise when God bumps into you
For further suggestions and resources, take a look at our websites: unforcedrhythms.org

www.breathingspacecoventry.org

September 25, 2018

Reflections on retirement 7: Wholeheartedly on my bike

I cycled in to the University today – perhaps for the last time. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the first frost of autumn was shimmering on the grass, a shadowy mist hovered over the duck ponds, and the mothers and children were skipping on their way to school. Actually, the children were grumbling and the mothers getting stressed (this was Tile Hill after all!) but I smiled cheerily at them nevertheless.

I had started the morning with a reflection from one of my 21^st century gurus, Richard Rohr:

‘Much of a man’s life is spent going to work, running errands, cleaning house, mowing the lawn, waiting in lines, attending meetings, and tending to the necessary but endless minutiae that make up life. We know that we can’t live as if we’re in the middle of an Indiana Jones adventure. We know that much of life is rather dull and repetitive. That’s why it’s so important to be fully present to the ordinary things that keep us going: a movie, a concert, dinner with a friend. Anything you do fully gives you joy. Anything done halfheartedly will bore you. People do not tire from overwork nearly as much as from halfheartedness. Wholeheartedness requires that a person be fully present. And people who are present are most ready to experience the Presence.’ – Richard Rohr, On the threshold of transformation, p186.

I reflected that that has been my experience in the amazing 36 years of my career. When I have been fully present, wholeheartedly engaged in the task in hand, I have felt fulfilled, energised, inspired. When I’ve been distracted, halfheartedly engaged, my mind on other things, I’ve ended up bored or frustrated.

I guess I have been blessed by being involved in work which lends itself to fulfilment: clinics; teaching; inspiring research… But it has had its share of routine, repetitive tasks: management meetings, governance reports… Surprisingly, though, even those things which carried the potential to be tedious and uninspiring have turned out to be fulfilling when I was able to engage with them wholeheartedly. One of the most rewarding parts of my job over the past few years has been chairing our local serious cases subcommittee. I have loved this work – partly, I’m sure, because of the great team of people who have formed the committee; but also because I have been able to carve out the time to focus on the work in hand, to see its importance in terms of children’s lives, and to think creatively about how we learn from these cases.

And so, getting in to my office, I was once more privileged to be able to throw myself wholeheartedly into the tasks before me: editing some journal papers; feedback to students; supervising one of my PhD students; supporting another PhD student through her viva (successfully so – well done Jumana! A great bonus for my final week at work); and doing some final clearing out of my office.

‘That was the best defended thesis I have ever examined’ – Julie Taylor, external examiner

So I was feeling fulfilled and not at all tired when I closed my office door and walked out to my bike for the long cycle ride home. Only to find that some other dopey (I will give them the benefit of the doubt that it was dopiness rather than malice, or some warped attempt to keep me at the Medical School) cyclist had padlocked my bike to theirs!

Fortunately it was just through the brake cable, so an hour later, when Lois came to rescue me in the car, complete with a set of Allen keys, I was able to free my bike and get home. And the added bonus was that in the intervening time, I had managed to finish clearing my office and say goodbye to room B028 at Warwick Medical School. And while the sun was no longer shining, the sky was nevertheless crisp and clear with golden tints of an autumn evening.

September 17, 2018

Why the Archbishop of Canterbury should wear a Green Party rosette alongside his dog collar

Let justice roll down like rivers

When Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury, quoted the prophet Amos, and Mary, the mother of Jesus, in his speech to the Trades Union Congress last week, he – not surprisingly – drew harsh opposition from those in power, including a number of Tory MPs. Ben Bradley, MP for Mansfield tweeted: ‘Not clear to me when or how it can possibly be appropriate for the Archbishop of Canterbury to be appearing at TUC conference or parroting Labour policy’, while his fellow MP in Shipley, Philip Davies, commented that ‘Justin Welby ought to consider removing his dog collar and replacing it with a Labour Party rosette’.

But as the Archbishop pointed out in his speech, the Bible is political – dangerously so.

‘Mary’s song, the Magnificat, central to the New Testament, is so revolutionary that anyone who takes it seriously finds it a threat to power and entitlement.’ – Justin Welby

A Labour Party rosette?

So perhaps Philip Davies is right, and Justin Welby should replace his dog collar with a Labour Party rosette. Perhaps every minister of religion, and indeed any serious follower of Jesus should do so. As Justin Welby pointed out,

‘To speak to the TUC in its 150th year, is to receive the enormous gift of being in the presence of a gathering that has been instrumental over that century and a half in reducing inequality, challenging injustice, and speaking up for the poor, the marginalised and the oppressed.’

And ‘reducing inequality, challenging injustice, and speaking up for the poor, the marginalised and the oppressed’ is precisely what Jesus stood for, so perhaps his followers should be more outspoken in doing so too.

Or a Green Party rosette?

Shortly after Justin Welby’s TUC speech, I received a copy of the new Green Party Political Programme. And, once again, I am impressed with the clear and refreshing agenda they are proposing, and just how much that aligns with the values the Archbishop was expounding in his speech, and how much they align with the Bible and Jesus’ own manifesto of the Sermon on the Mount.

Caring for our environment

Policies to care for our environment, reduce energy consumption, accelerate the roll-out of renewable energy, reduce waste, and protect and care for all animals; promoting creativity

‘We live on an amazing planet, rich in resources and able to sustain an incredible diversity of life. But we cannot take for granted it will always be this way.’ – Green Party Political Programme

‘The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it’. – The Bible

‘Have a good look at the birds in the sky… Take a tip from the lilies of the countryside…’ – Jesus

Challenging privilege

Making every vote matter; reforming the House of Lords; enabling diversity across politics; ending discrimination; an economy which delivers for the people who make it; tackling workplace exploitation and inequality; introducing a Universal Basic Income

‘Reducing privilege increases the power of ordinary people – of all of us. As the establishment shrinks, democracy grows.’ – Green Party Political Programme

‘At the heart of the Green Party is a belief that everyone is equal, that all lives have intrinsic value and that personal life choices are deserving of dignity.’ – Green Party Political Programme

‘He has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.

He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,

And lifted up the lowly.’ – The Bible

‘Blessings on the meek! You’re going to inherit the earth.’ – Jesus

‘We will take immediate action to deliver real gender equality and to tackle violence against women and girls. We will make misogyny a hate crime and make it easier to challenge media sexism. We will fiercely protect and enhance women’s rights.’ – Green Party Political Programme

‘Whichever of you is without sin should throw the first stone.’ – Jesus to a group of men about to stone a woman ‘caught in adultery’.

Building peace and promoting international friendship

Standing up for migrants and refugees; building bridges; nuclear abolition; increasing international aid

‘We believe in waging peace not war, and are the only Party in England to unambiguously oppose all nuclear weapons, with their potential to end all human life.’ – Green Party Political Programme

‘Whatever the outcome or terms of Brexit, we will continue to stand in fellowship alongside our European neighbours, healing the scars of centuries of conflict through sharing and collaboration.’ – Green Party Political Programme

‘All peoples on earth will be blessed through you.’ – The Bible

‘They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.’ – The Bible

‘Blessings on the peacemakers! You’ll be called God’s children.’ – Jesus

Embedding collective kindness in our society

Restoring the NHS; empowering children in education; promoting local services; renewing communities; and supporting disabled people; making housing accessible

‘We envision a country underpinned by well-funded, locally led public services providing care and support for all – a society rooted in kindness.’ – Green Party Political Programme

‘He has filled the hungry with good things, And the rich he has sent away empty’ – The Bible

‘I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger and you made me welcome. I was naked and you clothed me; I was sick and you looked after me; I was in prison and you came to me.’ – Jesus

A dog collar and a rosette?

No doubt others of different political and religious persuasions will find lots of gaps in this, see all sorts of ways in which the church has not lived up to the Bible’s teaching or Jesus’ manifesto, or see more alignments with other political parties. And there will be those who would argue that religion and politics don’t mix.

However, it seems to me that if my faith – or anyone else’s for that matter (whether Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Humanist, or any other belief system) – is not political then it is of no value at all. And it has to be political in a way that promotes justice, peace, diversity, compassion, and care for our environment.

So I don’t think the Archbishop of Canterbury should get rid of his dog collar just yet. But I do think he is right to speak out for justice and to wear a rosette (preferably green) alongside his dog collar.

September 15, 2018

Reflections on retirement 6: Bereavement and Transition

The other day I walked through the corridors of Warwick Hospital for what may be my last time as an NHS employee. I thought back on all those days and nights – many years ago now – walking (and at times running) through similar long, pre-fab corridors as a junior house officer. Those days (and nights) are long gone now, and I can’t say that I miss them – certainly not the horrendous long hours and the relentless intrusions of the dreaded bleep – but I do look back with a bit of a sense of nostalgia.

Bereavement and transition

It is often said that retirement is a kind of bereavement. Looking ahead to my retirement, though, it doesn’t feel so much a bereavement as a transition. I guess I am privileged: privileged to have had a career that has been worthwhile and fulfilling; privileged to have also had meaning and worth in my life outside my work; and privileged to be retiring at a stage when I am able to look forward to all the new things I will be able to do.

But any transition also involves loss, and I recognise that for many that can be acutely painful. Particularly where retirement is accompanied by a sudden or gradual loss of significance.

So as I go through this change in my life, how do I make it a positive transition rather than a painful loss? There are three questions which I have found helpful in facing any kind of transition, which can be summarised in the three concepts of mourning, meaning and moving.

Mourning: How do I let go of all that has gone before?

For me, this has been a gradual process: stepping back from hospital work and nights and weekends on call; dropping my clinics to focus more on my academic and specialist work; and now leaving paid employment with the NHS entirely. As I look back there is so much I am grateful for: my colleagues; the families I have worked with; the things I have achieved in my career. I can recognise and celebrate the contributions I have made to protecting children, supporting families, and encouraging and empowering other professionals – both locally and nationally. At the same time, I can accept the things I haven’t achieved; the mistakes made; the unfulfilled dreams: the closure of our child health MSc; the doors closed on a return to Cambodia; my lack of promotion to an academic chair; my failure to establish a sustainable local team for responding to unexpected child deaths. And I can acknowledge that there will be aspects of my work that I may miss: the interaction with my colleagues, children and families; inspiring teaching sessions with motivated students; chairing our local serious cases sub-committee…

Meaning: how do I make sense of this transition?

In a way this, for me, is quite an easy question. And in this I recognise, again, just how privileged I am. I can look back on the journey my career has taken, and see lots of meaning and purpose in it. While at the time there were aspects which were perhaps harder to make sense of – my repeated failure to pass my MRCP exams; the traumas we faced in Cambodia; the gradual disintegration of our academic child health team; the frustrations of unsuccessful grant applications – overall, there has been a sense of purpose, of doing something worthwhile, and now, being able to move on to new opportunities. Looking back I can see how my life and work have had meaning, and how it has unfolded in a path that has brought me to where I am now, with all the skills and experience I have gained along the way. And I am blessed in now being able to take that expertise and apply it in new areas – both nationally and internationally, as well as, perhaps, developing new areas of interest and engagement.

Moving: how can I make the most of this new phase of my life?

For me retirement is a wholesome and positive moving forward. I am looking forward to the new opportunities it brings. To be able to take the skills and experience I have gained over these years and use them in new and inspiring ways. And to enter into a more gentle pace of life, one where there is no longer the pressure to achieve or be productive. There is so much I am looking forward to: being more involved in the rhythm of life at Breathing Space; working from home, looking out at the beauty of our garden; morning toast and coffee with Lois; helping create the house and garden as a place of peace and serenity; pursuing other projects here in the UK and abroad; starting a PhD; spending time with family and friends…
And, for now at least, no longer walking down long, pre-fabricated hospital corridors.

September 2, 2018September 2, 2018

Reflections on retirement 5. Child protection: the good, the bad, and the ugly

Child Protection

It is strange how one’s life journey doesn’t always take you on expected paths…

As a junior doctor and trainee paediatrician in the early 1990s, there were two career avenues I decided I really did not want to pursue: child protection and research. So I often wonder how it is, 28 years later, that I end up retiring from a career as an academic paediatrician specialising in child protection.

I suspect it was my time in Cambodia that set the compass leading me down this route. And perhaps, even more so, returning to this country – having seen the huge needs of children and families in such an impoverished and war-torn country – and wondering where the most vulnerable children and families in our country were, and what I could possibly do to make a difference.

I may puzzle over it, but I certainly don’t regret the career choices I have made. It has been an incredibly rewarding. Looking back, there is so much I can celebrate and feel positive about.

But it has also been a hard journey and it is perhaps only recently, with the prospect of retirement looming, that I have come to appreciate just how much of a toll it has taken. There are times when I feel tired and I look forward to no longer having to take responsibility for decision making and giving advice on individual cases – knowing that my advice can have such profound impacts on the lives of individual children and their families.

The good

As I look back, though, there is so much I can appreciate. Like the little girl who took me by the hand and proudly showed me round her new primary school after I’d seen her for a follow up medical after the one that led to her being taken out of the awful home situation in which she was living. Or the stressed out mum who learned to praise the good she saw in her child…

I first saw this little boy as a toddler brought to my clinic with constipation and soiling. From the moment they entered the clinic room, his mother poured out a torrent of abuse, calling him a ‘little shithead’ and ‘the child from hell’. Over the following months, with appropriate treatment, his constipation gradually improved. Each time they came to clinic, I made a point of telling the little boy something positive about himself. I also, over time, started asking the mother what she liked about him. One of the last times I saw him, they both came in beaming and his mother (now calling him ‘my little angel’) prompted him to show me his latest star chart – a gold star on every day.

Or another family where a bit of joint agency detective work led to a positive outcome for everyone…

As a newly appointed consultant I was asked to see a baby girl with rib fractures discovered on a ‘routine’ chest x-ray. There were no other injuries, the girl looked healthy and thriving and both parents seemed to be devoted to her. And yet, she had serious and unexplained injuries. Further investigations, including a home visit, revealed that the family lived in a poorly maintained first floor flat. In order to reach their home, the father, who had a disabling muscle condition which left him unsteady on his feet, would climb a narrow, unlit stairway, holding his daughter under one arm, while he held onto the bannister with the other. It became apparent that at times he had stumbled and, in doing so, gripped his daughter tightly round the chest – the likely explanation for the fractures. With a multi-agency child protection plan, rehousing to somewhere more suitable, and some parent training and support, the family were able to stay together and protect their daughter from further harm.

The bad

Sadly, not all the cases had such good outcomes, or such readily apparent solutions. I am sure there have been times when I have missed cases of abuse, given unhelpful advice, or simply been unable to reach any clear conclusions. I know that there have been times when decisions I’ve made have resulted in children being left in abusive environments. Equally, there have been times when my advice has ended up with children being unnecessarily removed from families. That is the hard road we walk balancing child protection and family support, where far too often, we just don’t know what route to take.

And there have been other cases where the best solution has been apparent, but we just haven’t had the resources to see it through…

I was asked to assess the baby of a couple with learning difficulties. The baby had suffered sunburn after the mother had applied after-sun lotion, not realising that it wasn’t actually sun-block. The baby had signs of neglect with poor growth and developmental delay. Both parents clearly loved their child, wanted the best for him, and would never knowingly harm him. A psychologist had assessed the parents’ capacity to take on board instructions and to be able to parent their child safely. The advice of myself, the psychologist, and the social worker was that, given enough support, these parents could look after their child. However, the levels of support that would be needed to ensure the child’s safety and wellbeing, were well beyond the resources available in the local authority, and the child was placed in care.

And the ugly

One of the most disturbing cases I have dealt with in my career was as a young registrar, early in my training. I was called to the emergency department to see a 2 year old who had been brought in with some minor injuries. From the moment I walked into the cubicle, the young girl, sitting on the examination couch, watched me with an intent, watchful expression. Throughout my examination she didn’t react at all – neither smiling nor crying – while her father sat stony-faced on the other side of the cubicle. I concluded that her injuries were accidental in nature and didn’t need any treatment, and I sent her home with her father. What really upset me though – and has haunted me ever since – were five words written in biro on her arm: ‘I am a little bitch’.

I have often wondered what happened to that little girl. What kind of a home did I send her back to? What kind of person did she grow up to be? Did anyone else pick up on the emotional abuse she was experiencing and act where I had failed to act?

Child protection does have its ugly side. Fortunately they are rare, but there are parents and others who deliberately and maliciously harm their children – physically, emotionally, and sexually. In the course of my career, I have had to deal with that. It isn’t easy seeing the pain that some children have to live with. Nor is it easy seeing the pain of parents who have their children taken away from them; of families torn apart by abuse, domestic violence, addictions. Or seeing adults carrying the pain of abuse they have suffered – from parents or partners, and sometimes just not knowing how to deal with that pain, or the stresses of life that can be so overwhelming that children end up getting caught in the middle and hurt themselves.

It isn’t easy. But it is important.

Which brings me back to the good, and one of the greatest privileges I have found through working in this field: the people. The very real and ordinary families who have shared with me some of their struggles, hopes and dreams; the amazing children, so many of whom show incredible resilience, joy and love, even in the face of such devastating adversity; and the professionals – social workers, police officers, nurses, teachers, doctors and others – all dedicated and committed to helping others, passionate about making this world a better place for children.