Little Terror

Entering this book is a world of no return, you are in a world never seen before. Good luck.

All the years working in the White House, all the years playingher brother, her father, her stepfather, her uncle and her grandfather, she was, thought Leonard Jakobs, the unhappiest child he had ever encountered. Like many of the rich and white, the child didn't seem to know how to be happy. It's true that her mother drank on the sly and her father didn't have any time for her, but so what? It wasn't just the rich whites who didn't love their children enough. But some kids get over it and some don't.

This one pulled at him.She was an attractive little thing, but never sincerely beautiful. No, she looked like her father, and sooner or later, probably when she was an old woman, the father she had in her would show up. However, she was tough and headstrong like him and that wasn't all bad. A little obstinacy makes its way in this world.

Hopelessness owns you. The feeling that this poor thing was already lost almost before she
got started, like a stupid, skinny pup whose mother never gives him enough milk but kicks him a lot and who is probably run over by a huge truck the first time he getsadventure to go.

There was very little he could do for her: play with her, make her smile when he saw her.in the course of your work. And he could do for her what he'd done for a dozen little girls over the years: use the gifts the Lord had given him to make her a memory of her time here, in that big house.

He had never built such a thing before, so he studied the thing in one of the Historical Association's guidebooks, which always contained old blueprints.Repeatedly read a passage:

It is a clear eighteenth-century vision, based on the then visible and divine order of the universe. The square of the building is symmetrically broken by the porticos: the sensual arch to the south, a front porch of classical austerity to the north, both composed of smooth and authoritative columns. The detail that disturbs the harsh lines is, in turn, purified by the white color that age has softened into a cream. And a materialized dream of the Republic.

The capricious words proved difficult to understand, he thought, feeling that it was special, unique, almost alive. It was a sad place; nobody's house for all the people who lived there in his time. Eight men had died under his symbolic roof; he wasn't the only former employee who felt their cold presence in the rooms.

during allthe months of patient work before the child's birthday, he pondered these questions and trusted the Lord. This house, this image of the Great Mansion, would always give joy and pleasure and delight to the children who played with it, for these are the things the Lord thinks children learn through play., Miniatures of Terror - Tabitha King

In the end, theLord humiliated him for his pride in work and caused the child to reject the dollhouse he had built for her. Leonard Jakobs smothered his disappointment by deciding that if, in his misfortune, the child rejected his gift, he would not reject the Lord's: Perhaps the Lord would in time bless his daughter Dorothy, as He had blessed him.