daughter

By the time Pure went public in 1995, my wife and I had been married for four years and we had one young daughter.

Then came Bess Myerson, a daughter of Russian-Jewish immigrants who was raised in the Sholem Aleichem Houses in the Bronx.

Like most Jewish mothers, Myerson thought her daughter could do better.

This is about no longer accepting that—as so many others have stated—a family would rather have a dead son than a living daughter.

I noticed a picture of her daughter, who was my classmate, and out of curiosity visited her page.

Her adopted daughter tried to suffocate a younger biological sibling.

"The Smoker," and "Mother and Daughter," a triptych, are two of her principal pictures.

The Rev. Alonzo Barnard, seventy-one years of age, accompanied by his daughter, was present.

He reached forward and took her hands, and if Mrs. Vivian had come in she would have seen him kneeling at her daughter's feet.

Every word that now fell from the agitated Empress was balm to the affrighted nerves of her daughter.

She looked from the picture to her daughter, with a frightful glare, in their before mild aspect.