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Books Books Altadena Main Library
Adult Collection Adult New Arrivals 362.76 PEL Available 39270003964370

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

Imagine a young boy who has never had a loving home. His only possesions are the old, torn clothes he carries in a paper bag. The only world he knows is one of isolation and fear. Although others had rescued this boy from his abusive alcoholic mother, his real hurt is just begining -- he has no place to call home.<br> <br> This is Dave Pelzer's long-awaited sequel to A Child Called "It". In The Lost Boy, he answers questions and reveals new adventures through the compelling story of his life as an adolescent. Now considered an F-Child (Foster Child), Dave is moved in and out of five different homes. He suffers shame and experiences resentment from those who feel that all foster kids are trouble and unworthy of being loved just because they are not part of a "real" family.<br> <br> Tears, laughter, devastation and hope create the journey of this little lost boy who searches desperately for just one thing -- the love of a family.

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

<opt> <anon I1="BLANK" I2="BLANK">from Chapter OneWinter 1970, Daly City, California--IÆm alone. IÆm hungry and IÆm shivering in the dark! I sit on top of my hands at the bottom of the stairs in the garage. My head is tilted backward. My hands became numb hours ago. My neck and shoulder muscles begin to throb. But thatÆs nothing new--lÆve learned to turn off the pain. IÆm MotherÆs prisoner. I am nine years old and IÆve been living like this for years. Every day itÆs the same thing. I wake up from sleeping on an old army cot in the garage, perform the morning chores, and if IÆm lucky, eat leftover breakfast cereal from my brothers. I run to school, steal food, return to "The House" and am forced to throw up in the toilet bowl to prove that I didnÆt commit the crime of stealing any food. I receive beatings or play another one of her "games," perform afternoon chores, then sit at the bottom of the stairs until IÆm summoned to complete the evening chores. Then, and only if I have completed all of my chores on time, and if I have not committed any "crimes," I may be fed a morsel of food. My day ends only when Mother allows me to sleep on the army cot, where my body curls up in my meek effort to retain any body heat. The only pleasure in my life is when I sleep. ThatÆs the only time I can escape my life. I love to dream. Weekends are worse. No school means no food and more time at "The House.ö All I can do is try to imagine myself away --somewhere, anywhere -- from "The House." For years I have been the outcast of ôThe Family." As long as I can remember I have always been in trouble and have ôdeserved" to be punished. At first I thought I was a bad boy. Then I thought Mother was sick because she only acted differently when my brothers were not around and my father was away at work. But somehow I always knew Mother and I had a private relationship. I also realized that for some reason I have+ been MotherÆs sole target for her unexplained rage and twisted pleasure. I have no home. I am a member of no oneÆs family. I know deep inside that I do not now, nor will I ever deserve any love, attention or even recognition as a human being. I am a child called "It." IÆm all alone inside. Upstairs the battle begins. Since itÆs after four in the afternoon, I knnow both of my parents are drunk. The yelling starts. First the name-calling, then the swearing. I count the seconds before the subject turns to me--it always does. The sound of MotherÆs voice makes my insides turn. "What do you mean?" she shrieks at my father, Stephen. "You think I treat æThe BoyÆ bad? Do you?" Her voice then turns ice cold. I can imagine her pointing a finger at my fatherÆs face. "You ... listen ... to ... me. You ... have no idea what æItÆsÆ like. If you think I treat æItÆ that bad ... then ... æItÆ can live somewhere else. I can picture my father--who, after all these years, still tries somewhat to stand up for me --swirling the liquor in his glass, making the ice from his drink rattle. "Now calm down," he Excerpted from The Lost Boy: A Foster Child's Search for the Love of a Family by Dave Pelzer All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.</anon> </opt>

Reviews provided by Syndetics

Library Journal Review

Following A Child Called It (Health Communications, 1995), which was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize and appears frequently on high school reading lists, this is the second in a planned trilogy from motivational author and speaker Pelzer. Here he tells his story from the time he left his abusive mother and alcoholic father, through his experiences in five foster homes and juvenile detention, and how he eventually made it into the Air Force. He was a defiant, rebellious boy who, despite his background and personality, managed to endear himself to many guardians, social workers, and teachers. Pelzer writes in an honest, sometimes rambling, style; he is never bitter, and his story will find many sympathetic readers. However, he leaves many questions unanswered (which may appear in the third book), dealing with his adult-life relationships, his son, the mother of that child, and the ways he turned his life around. This is sure to be popular among students and readers who await a sequel to A Child Called It. Well recommended.‘Linda Beck, Indian Valley P.L., Telford, Pa. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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