My Unread Bible On my first day of kindergarten my mother took me only inside the door to the classroom. We stood together for a moment and I hesitated before going farther. Ahead of us was the crying table whose purpose I didn’t understand until some hapless child was abandoned there a few days later. My mother averted her gaze. Her unwavering bite-the-bullet principles pervaded her child-rearing.
My Unread Bible
My Unread Bible
My Unread Bible
My Unread Bible On my first day of kindergarten my mother took me only inside the door to the classroom. We stood together for a moment and I hesitated before going farther. Ahead of us was the crying table whose purpose I didn’t understand until some hapless child was abandoned there a few days later. My mother averted her gaze. Her unwavering bite-the-bullet principles pervaded her child-rearing.