I stood at the window this morning, wrapped in my bathrobe, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. Heavy rain obscured the street below. Raindrops slid down the glass, one after another.
“God is crying for our crazy world,” I thought.
“I wonder how they are doing now. Some of them have got to be in their twenties by now.”
My eyes filled with tears of my own.
The subject of trafficking and abuse is once again filling the headlines. People are debating. Arguing. Accusing.
But this morning, I’m not thinking about the headlines.
I’m grieving for the young survivors I met so long ago. I loved them then. I love them still. And I’m grieving for survivors everywhere who are quietly fighting to heal.
What the Public Sees vs. What Survivors Live
The public sees investigations, scandals, and courtroom scenes.
Survivors live with memory, triggers, and nervous system responses.
The news cycle will move on soon. Trauma does not.
Grief often surfaces years after rescue. When survival mode finally quiets, grief rises.
In survival mode, the body protects. Later, when safety comes, loss begins to be felt — lost childhood, lost trust, lost innocence, lost years.
The Grief of the Witness
My grief comes from knowing what should never have happened.
It comes from understanding that healing can take a lifetime. From knowing that even when someone is safe, the story does not end there.
There is a kind of grief that belongs to those who stand beside survivors. Not because they are broken — but because we know what was taken.
And yet, I have witnessed healing.
I have seen the power of love and play. I have stood in rooms alive with laughter — children reclaiming joy, even if only for an hour.
That tells me healing is possible.
And that strengthens my resolve.
Why Language and Warnings Matter
Part of that resolve is my writing.
Stories of abuse can re-traumatize. Headlines alone can awaken buried pain. So I remind myself to speak carefully. Thoughtfully. With restraint.
There are moments when outrage rises in me — when I want to shout what I know to be true.
But love speaks differently than outrage.
Grief and Hope Must Coexist
Healing unfolds in its own time. There are breakthroughs and setbacks in no particular order. Healing often requires returning to what once overwhelmed us — this time with support.
If you have ever loved someone who is healing — as a parent, therapist, teacher, advocate, volunteer, or friend — you may recognize this grief.
It is the grief of the witness.
Today’s headlines will fade.
Healing will continue.
And so will the love.
And yes, the grief — not in despair, but in devotion.
With love and hope,
Susan
For the Sake of Children 
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