Share 'How PST could help Vera and Dinara'

I sat next to a crying woman in church last Sunday. She was unkempt, her face blotchy and pimpled, her eyes blindly staring. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. She seemed lost in her own world, her sadness painful and acute. It was all a bit unseemly. There was about her a sense of not caring that she was on display, gripped as she was by the kind of unmuted grieving that makes people uncomfort…