A Child Called "It"

Dave Pelzer was born in 1960 and grew up in a middle-class suburb of San Francisco. His dad was a firefighter whose work kept him away for days at a time. His mother was a homemaker and an alcoholic who started abusing Dave when he was four years old.

While his mother cared for the rest of the family, Dave was starved, beaten, burned, and referred to as "the boy" and eventually, "it." His mother made him eat his brother's feces, drink ammonia, and would hold his arm over a gas stove. Dave internalized his mother's hatred and believed he was unworthy of love.

No one stopped his mother. In the Pelzer household, dad worked, and mom raised the boys. Dave says his father was the perfect passive observer. For Dave, survival became a matter of out-witting his mother.

Review from Oprah Winfrey's website.

A Child Called "It"

A Child Called "It" is the unforgettable story of a child whose courage and unyielding determination enabled him to survive extreme life-threatening odds. As the first part of a trilogy series this book is currently translated in nearly forty languages and has been read by millions throughout the world.

#1 New York Times Bestseller for over 6 years
#1 International Bestseller
Nominated for the Pulitzer Prize

When I Read A Child Called "It"...
- I allowed myself to cry...and cry I did through many of the chapters.

- When something "called me to action" I would jot down my thoughts in a notebook. Here are a few...
* Where do children go in my state when they are taken from an abusive home?
* How can I tell other's about this book?
* Pass this book onto [friend's name] and ask them to pass it on when they are done reading it.
* Is there a way for me to contact Dave Pelzer about his book?

- Not long after reading this book I became an online counselor with TeenCentral.net. It was one of the most rewarding AND heartbreaking experiences of my life.

"By the sixth day I was so weak when I woke up on my army cot, I could hardly get up. I worked on my chores at a snail's pace. I felt so numb. My thought responses became unclear. It seemed to take minutes for me to understand each sentence Mother yelled to me. As I slowly strained my head up to look at Mother, I could tell that to her it was a game -- a game which she thoroughly enjoyed.

"Oh, poor little baby," Mother sarcastically cooed. Then she asked me how I felt, and laughed when I begged for food. At the end of the sixth day, and those that followed, I hoped with all my heart that Mother would feed me something, anything. I was at a point that I didn't care what it was.

One evening, towards the end of her "game," after I had finished my chores, Mother slammed a plate of food in front of me. The cold leftovers were a feast to my eyes. But I was wary; it seemed too good to be true. "Two minutes!" Mother barked. "You have two minutes to eat. That's all." Like lightening I picked up the fork, but the moment before the food touched my mouth, Mother snatched the plate away from me and emptied the food down the garbage disposal. "Too late!" she sneered. I stood before her dumbstruck. I didn't know what to do or say. All I could think of was "Why?" I couldn't understand why she treated me the way she did. I was so close that I could smell every morsel. I knew she wanted me to cave in, but I stood fast and held back the tears. Mother had another favorite game for me while Father was away. She sent me to clean....."

Dave Pelzer: Dave now uses what he has learned from his tragic past to help others. He has written four international best sellers and his most recent book, Help Yourself, has been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize

• Phone: (760) 321-4452, contact is Amy Jones
• Fax: (760) 321-6842
• Mailing Address: PO Box 1846, Rancho Mirage, CA 92270

read the rest of the Wikipedia article