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I feel crushed and broken this week. My wounds are still too fresh to bear the weight of the pain I now see everyday in some of the young kids I am working with.

Scars in such delicate souls. A system that is utterly failing. A cycle of negativity that only breeds more punishment and fear. And no way for me to make it better.

If I weren’t in tears, I would be raging against the injustices of our world. And many a day, I am. But anger is useless if it isn’t turned to positive action; molded into a vessel of change.

I grieve for my fellow human beings who are suffering, or have suffered and are now dealing with the scars left behind, on a regular basis. And when I grieve for children, the sorrow and the helplessness is so very intense. Like a flame boring it’s way to the center of me.

There isn’t anything I can do, beyond serving as a positive role model for these children. I cannot save them. I cannot change their home life. I cannot undo what they have seen or had perpetrated upon them.

I know full well that there are thousands, if not millions, of children all over the world who suffer either emotionally, physically, mentally or a combination thereof. But having it in my face all the time is proving to be more than I can take. What the answer is, I do not know. I only know how it makes me feel; crushed and deeply sorrowful.

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