By Alison Freeman BBC News, London

Christian was on his way to work when he was killed

"I've still got his phone number in my phone and I'm not ashamed to say I occasionally phone it.

"I've still got his text messages, at least some of them.

"Even now I still expect him to phone and I still expect him to walk through the door."

Christian was on his way to work in advertising when he died on the Piccadilly Line train bombed near Russell Square.

Concerns were raised for the 28-year-old, from Walthamstow, in east London, when his friends and family realised he was the only person they were unable to contact during the day after the bombs went off.

Deep down I knew something had happened Sheila Henry Obituary: Christian Small

Mrs Henry said the day started off ordinary.

"Then the sirens and all those things on the television - of course you don't think you are part of it, you see all those things and they seem so far away.

"It was late on in the day, my daughter rang to say she was having trouble getting hold of Christian.

"All his friends were phoning each other to see where they were, and then they got stuck on Christian."

The search for Christian lasted for eight days, as everyone wanted to continue looking for him.

"As a mother I knew that it just wasn't in his nature not to phone. Deep down I knew something had happened.

Mrs Henry said the foundation was helping her to heal

"We didn't hear until eight days later that he had died."

The same determination that made Christian's friends carry on searching for him has now manifested itself in another form.

They have joined with his family to set up a foundation to educate black boys, help them find a career and place in society.

Mrs Henry says the inspiration for this comes from the spirit of Christian, who had crammed a lot into his short life.

Man of strength

He had spent several months in Ghana, teaching children from a poor community. As a parting gift he left his own laptop to the school.

"To him, he was not materialistic in that sense," said Mrs Henry.

"They didn't have a computer, he could easily come back to London and buy one that he could afford.

"I think that's how he looked at things - that if he can do something for others then why not?"

The Ghanaian experience touched Christian's life so much that he changed his name on his return to Christian Njoya Diawara Small - the additions meant "man of strength".

It's just getting everybody to do something and normally when you are doing something you tend to feel a little bit better - like Njoya didn't die in vain Sheila Henry

Christian wrote a book about his travels which Mrs Henry is in the process of getting published.

On a lighter note, he had also just taken up salsa dancing and proved to be a natural.

As well as carrying on her son's ideals, the foundation also has another role in Mrs Henry's eyes.

"The whole idea is to help everybody to heal.

"We've all been traumatised, so it's just getting everybody to do something, and normally when you are doing something you tend to feel a little bit better - like Njoya didn't die in vain."

To us they are just faceless people who happened to do this terrible thing Sheila Henry

Asked if she felt angry towards those who took her son from her, she replied: "Of course I am angry about that - but at the same time, when you get to this stage you don't feel those emotions are that important.

"Who do you hate? There's no-one there. Those people didn't know them, my son didn't know them.

"To us they are just faceless people who happened to do this terrible thing."

She responds with a smile to the question of how would Christian feel to see the foundation growing in his memory.

"I think he'd be so proud. I think he would be walking around with his head high.

"We are like, 'This is what Christian would want and we are going to do it.'"