Here we were. Day One Hundred: a day we’d hoped we’d never reach. There was a horrible, sad inevitability about it. It was a day when we would be buoyed up by loving kindness one minute and brought crashing down the next. At 11am, Gerry and I walked down to the little church we loved so much, where Susan and Haynes Hubbard and Auntie Janet, with the help of many others, had organized a One Hundred Days of Hope service for Madeleine and missing children everywhere. On this occasion we saw the massive media presence outside as a positive sign. They were not here today about blood and dogs, and it was important to us to show the world that we weren’t giving up or giving in. The service was beautiful and uplifting. The church was full, with many Portuguese people among the congregation, which mattered very much to us. Haynes led the service. He is such a strong man, his trust in God unwavering, especially when the going gets tough. At one point during his sermon he made the point that it would be the easy option for everyone to turn away from Gerry and me right now.
