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JOURNAL
HALIFAX DISASTER RECORD OFFICE
CHRONICLE BUILDING
HALIFAX N.S.
March 3, 1918.
Your Help Wanted To Find Missing Child!
Who Knows Where Little Fair-Haired Elizabeth Robertson Is?--Last Reported at the Ferry Wharf on December 6th.

Among the many varieties of pain growing out of the disaster, none is more poignant than that of a devoted parent unable to find a child that he has no reason to believe is alive. There can be no agony of affection to equal it. When sleep forsakes those whose arms are empty and their hearts sore, it is possible to derive some comfort from knowing that the beloved little body is at rest, and the spirit that animated it is no longer conscious of suffering. the pain and loneliness are all on one side then, and so may be borne, and time will help to heal. Few parents but have known the pang of such separation.
But to feel reasonably sure that your small child is alive and separated from you, that you have no more idea where it is than if you had never folded it into your arms, carried its image in your hear, worked for it, lived for it, that is a pang that seldom comes to parents, and the cruelty of it is almost unbearable.
What father or mother, looking on his or her own little son at home, would not understand how a man must feef [feel?] whose only child was missing? Who, that would put himself in the place of that parent, could fail to realize that by night and day the longing for and the haunting fear of neglect or ill-usage of the helpless child, would make day miserable and night a hideous nightmare? How long could one endure such a strain?