He Has No Idea

I was on a date tonight - more about that if he calls me again...(I called him to ask him out for Date #1, met him at a shabbat meal....whee) when I found myself telling a particular story. It's the story of why I switched from psychology to graphics in college.
I wanted to go into psychology or social work. I love "working" with teens, and find that they have an easy time sharing their lives with me. So why did I switch? I give most of the credit to this story:
I was a counselor in a camp where I met Josh (no, that's not his real name) Josh was a really sweet kid, smiley, cheerful, helpful, and not at all a trouble maker. The only problem we had with Josh was whenever there was a religious event, like tefillah, he was nowhere to be found. about two weeks into the trip I found myself deep in conversation with him about life. For some reason Josh decided to confide in me what he hadn't told anyone else. His father was abusive. Josh's older brother came home one day with a Kippa on his head, his father knocked it off, beat him up, and told him to get out of the house. Josh never saw his brother again. His father had grown up in Israel in a pretty religous home and decided to leave it all behind and go to America. Josh's mother grew up traditional, and tried to raise her family the same. His father was mostly verbally abusive to him and his brothers, but was physically abusive to his mother. He shared some pretty scary stories with me, that I'll never forget as long as I live. At the end of the summer, we tried to convince Josh not to go home. He was afraid that if he go back and protect his mother his father would kill her. So, Josh went home and found himself - at 17 years old - being his mother's leaning post. She confided in him that she wanted to leave his father, but was afraid if he found out he'd kill her. Almost every night Josh called me, and asked me what to do, what to tell her, how to keep her safe, etc... I'd hang up the phone and burst into tears. I called my aunt and asked her how she goes through life with clients like this. How can she have enough strength for everyone who depends on her for answers. She said after a while you learn how to detach yourself, and you recognize that it is a job. I didn't want that. I didn't ever want to be able to end a conversation like that and be ok. I decided then that social work/psychology wasn't really for me, and in looking for what would be second choice, I found graphic design. I stayed in touch with Josh for about two years. At our last conversation his mother still had not left his father, he was in a community college so he could live close to home and keep an eye on things, and he had decided there really couldn't be a Gd who would allow his mother to live like she was. He had no e-mail access and was paying for his own phone, both incoming and outgoing calls...and said he couldn't afford for me to call him anymore (he didn't have a land line) I don't know where he or his mother are today. Josh has no idea. He changed my life forever.