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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.
Achat du livre
One Child, Torey L. Hayden
- Langue
- Année de publication
- 2002
- product-detail.submit-box.info.binding
- (souple)
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- Titre
- One Child
- Langue
- Anglais
- Auteurs
- Torey L. Hayden
- Éditeur
- HarperCollins US
- Publié
- 2002
- Format
- souple
- ISBN10
- 0380542625
- ISBN13
- 9780380542628
- Séries
- Sheila
- Mots clés
- Nonfiction, Sciences sociales, Histoires vraies, Biographies, Motivation & Bien-être, Thèmes psychologiques, Autobiographies et mémoires, Psychologie, Développement personnel, Éducation, système scolaire, États-Unis, L'école, Enfants, Histoires, Littérature spécialisée, Filles, Violence, Maltraitance et abus, Étude, Psychothérapie, Enfance, Courage, Pauvreté, Expériences, vécus, Traitement, thérapie, Basé sur des faits réels, Traumatisme, Études académiques, Traumatismes Psychologiques, Injustice et préjudice, Acceptation de soi, Troubles du comportement, Enseignant et élève, Enfants à problèmes de comportement, Enfants négligés
- Première publication
- 1980
- Titre original
- One Child
- Évaluation
- 4,45 sur 5
- Description
- 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.










