I still have awful visions of one day about three years ago when I was amongst a crowd of people who saw a young boy knocked over by a lorry. For one terrible moment, I thought it was my own son, as he was similarly dressed, with very light hair. Half a dozen peole just stood there in shock, so I ran over to him and held his hand whilst someone called for an ambulance. The poor child was awake at first, but was bleeding from his mouth and wounds. Suddenly, he had a fit and fell into unconsciousness. He never regained it, and died in the back of the ambulance. I can't carry on writing about this, because it was one of the worst things I'd ever witnessed, and I cried for that poor child for several days. Every single day, I tell my own children that I love them, and wave to them until they're out of sight when they go off to school. Needless to say, I have the utmost respect for the Ambulance Service and medical teams.