The boy that I am speaking about didn't want to be taught, didn't want to work, he was screaming that he was tired, he was hungry, his hands were in pain ... and we were all searching the right path to send this boy to.
I found some words that were working for him, as he started to crochet in my lap, in one lesson he made FIVE rows and he cried because the lesson was over by then. He said he would love to crochet for another 500.000 years and that handwork is fun now.
I am so proud. Of him and a little bit of me, too.