Yesterday brought with it two surprises and my black dog (depression).

Returning from work hubby led me blindfolded down the driveway to our new home.

My heart raced. I froze and just stared. He had taken the dream in my head and made a start on bringing it to life.

I was blissfully happy.

Then our five year old son got home and told us about his bus ride.

A crescent shaped cut in his ear. A fingernail. He reluctantly told us about being slapped, bitten and scratched by older kids.

He is five years old! Our kids are the only littlies on this private bus to a school which prides itself on virtues. And not one of the young adults said a word or stepped in or even alerted the driver.

My heart broke the moment he defended the teens. “It’s ok Mum maybe tomorrow they will be my friends again”.

How do you feel hope for the future when you have to destroy a child’s naievity to keep him safe?

The black dog has set up it’s kennel in my mind and in my head it is red.