“But there’s definitely a dragon, Mum.”

I looked at this young man not allowing his mum to bury her head in the sand as he leaned toward her with endless compassion.

Jamie and his mum, Sue, came without Lily, the youngest, today. Sue closed the book ‘There’s No Such Thing As a Dragon’ and asked slowly, “So, again, what did she say when you read the book together?”

Her eyes met mine. Her silent tears did not tell half her story.

“She said there’s a dragon,” I answered, my voice reassuring Sue that she is safe, protected by the special intimacy she and I had established throughout the past months, “your sadness.”

“I’m doing my best so she won’t see it all.” Sue wiped her eyes with the back of her palm. Jamie handed her a tissue, and as so much gentleness and love were poured into this simple gesture, I was moved again.

“That’s exactly it, Mum,” Jamie’s way-beyond-his-years tenderness surrounded Sue, “maybe it’s time for you to stop doing your best so she won’t see it all.”

The following months of their family therapy, Sue, Jamie and Lily called some dragons by their name, invited others to the centre stage and allowed them to shrink back to their original size. The code-word ‘Dragon’ was coined as a private password of the team they have become.

On our last session, Lily gifted Jamie with a key-holder as he had recently successfully passed his driving theory test. We had crafted this key-holder for a while during her sessions with me; a colourful key-holder in the shape of a lovely smiling dragon.