Atrocities and tragedies are happening everywhere, all the time, we see so much of it we become almost immune, it bounces off, it didn’t happen to us.

This one really hit me full on. The horror, the pain, the fact it can never be undone. The suffering, the shock, the realisation. Each fragmented part of this shocking story in slow motion is lodged in my brain, the pit of my stomach and behind my eyes.

I have pledged to help children in whatever way I can.

It is my private – and shared – vision and venture, my mission to do what I can. When I read this story it felt that my mission is so futile, such a tiny drop, will it help at all, will it matter?

And today the stories about the dead children in Syria with no families left to identify them. And how many children are dreading going back to school today because they are bullied or abused. Or relieved to be going because those things happen at home. On and on.

So, as with most mountains, we have to start by taking one step.

We can’t reach the top without having taken that first step and that first step counts just as much as the last one that takes us onto the summit.

We have to remember that, give it the importance it deserves, otherwise… we would just give up and we CAN NOT do that.