When we lived in Romania, girls being stolen for prostitution was one of their biggest criminal issues. You'd see Lambourghini's parked in poverty stricken Bucharest streets alongside the gypsy horse and carts, and I could never stop the thought that such extreme money could only be made from this repulsive activity. I could have been wrong, but the idea was ever present for me.
I move back to Australia, to an area many call "God's country", no less. Sunny, relaxed and above all, safe.
So why is that I now find myself feeling as sickened about stolen children as I did when I lived in Bucharest?
A child, who dared play hide and seek in the next isle of the supermarket, 10 steps away from her grandmother, is dragged away by a suited, high heeled woman. Luckily the police caught her - and rescued the other two stolen children in the back of her car as well. All in a quiet suburban shopping centre on the Northern Beaches.
A man in a white van driving slowly along grabs a young girl at a bus stop dragging her into his van.
Another white van, driving slowly, with a man walking alongside of it with a blanket, ready to silently snuffle away a little boy.
These peope are not human, to even have the thought to do this to a child. I am nauseous that it could happen to one of mine in this "safe" little part of the world I thought I lived in. But that feeling of safety is what makes us a primary target.
Eyes in the back of your head mum's.