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Sandy was four years old when I met her. Nine months earlier, she was found covered in blood, lying over her murdered mother’s naked body, whimpering incoherently. But now, her eyes studied my face, my hands, and my slow movements – only partly attentive to the few words I spoke. She was justifiably suspicious as I joined her on the floor in coloring. For many minutes we colored together in silence. Sandy broke the rhythm by silently directing me to use a specific color. I complied.
ACEs In the News Recent Series by National Public Radio