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Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:

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oder über den Online-Buchhandel

An misfortune while cutting his nails. Patiently our baby sits on my lap and suddenly reaches for a hot tanle lamp (which we had lowered a little). The shock of horror is preceded by a hush that puts a stop to the course of the wold. Until the eruption of a horrible climax in which pain reveals itself in all its power. The baby is beside himself at such perfection (which burns two of his fingertips). There is no space for accusing a guilty party, or for turning away from the pain. Everything that was the world up to this point (nurturing, loving, protective) has vanished. (It is hard for us to set aside our wish to deliver our baby from his pain long enough to gain a clear view of the pain in it entirety. When we finally succeed, our consolation is effortless.)

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