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Finally, a beginning . . . The time had finally come. The time I had been waiting for through all these long months that I knew sooner or later had to occur. Now it was here. She had surprised me so much by actually crying that for a moment I did nothing but look at her. Then I gathered her into my arms, hugging her tightly. She clutched onto my shirt so that I could feel the dull pain of her fingers digging into my skin. She cried and cried and cried. I held her and rocked the chair back and on its rear legs, feeling my arms and chest get damp from the tears and her hot breath and the smallness of the room.
Compra de libros
One Child, Torey L. Hayden
- Idioma
- Publicado en
- 2002
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- (Tapa blanda)
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- Título
- One Child
- Idioma
- Inglés
- Autores
- Torey L. Hayden
- Editorial
- HarperCollins US
- Publicado en
- 2002
- Formato
- Tapa blanda
- ISBN10
- 0380542625
- ISBN13
- 9780380542628
- Serie
- Sheila
- Etiquetas
- No ficción, Ciencias sociales, Historias reales, Biografías, Autoayuda, Temas psicológicos, Psicología, Desarrollo personal, Autobiografías y memorias, EE.UU., Escuela, Niños, Educación, Cuentos, Literatura especializada, Chicas, Violencia, Estudio, Infancia, Psicoterapia, Valor, Maltrato y abuso, Pobreza, Basado en hechos reales, Tratamiento, Terapia, Experiencias, Trauma, Estudios, Traumas Psicológicos, Injusticia y derechos humanos, Autoaceptación, Trastornos de conducta, Maestro y alumno, Niños con Problemas de Conducta, Niños Desatendidos
- Primera publicación
- 1980
- Título original
- One Child
- Calificación
- 4,45 de 5
- Descripción
- Finally, a beginning . . . The time had finally come. The time I had been waiting for through all these long months that I knew sooner or later had to occur. Now it was here. She had surprised me so much by actually crying that for a moment I did nothing but look at her. Then I gathered her into my arms, hugging her tightly. She clutched onto my shirt so that I could feel the dull pain of her fingers digging into my skin. She cried and cried and cried. I held her and rocked the chair back and on its rear legs, feeling my arms and chest get damp from the tears and her hot breath and the smallness of the room.