Last night I found myself sobbing. I was reading the first chapters of the book Wonder to see if it would be a good fit to teach my homeschooled third grader, and it wasn’t the bullying of the protagonist, a boy with a facial deformity, that triggered me, but the struggle of the mother to make the best choices for her child. The words tore the thin scab over what apparently is an insecurity about whether I have done enough to…
