Last night was the first night I have looked up from my beautiful daughters face in Seven months. She has brought joy and pain, laughter and tears. My world has been mainly focused on her, how fast she is growing and the new things she can do, what she needs now and what she may need later. But last night I went out on the street for the first time in a year. It was the same as ever, cardboard, soup, glue, the stench of faeces and unwashed bodies, cool wind on sticky skin, grubby faces with bright eyes in the street lighting, children finding joy in other people’s rubbish, bodies lying under a sheet, sleeping, dead to the world unless a soup van comes past. But I feel so different. I've changed so much in the past year that my visit last night felt like a punch in the stomach. My instincts told me to run home to my precious girl and hold her and protect her from all the horrific things that are happening. To take her as far away from this place as I c...