The Boy Who Wouldn't Bend
I remember the first time I realized Caleb was different. He was four years old, and he had just fallen from the apple tree. He didn't cry. He just sat there in the dirt, looking at his scraped knee with a curiosity that felt almost alien. When my husband, Thomas, reached down to pick him up and told him to say he was sorry for making a mess of his new trousers, Caleb didn't apologize. He...
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