"But what if I break my arm again?" my 5-year-old daughter asked. I knew how much she wanted to learn to ride. Yet ever since she'd fallen off her bike and broken her arm, she'd been afraid. "Oh honey," I said. "I don't think you'll break another arm." "But I could, couldn't I?" "Yes," I admitted, and found myself struggling for the right thing to say. "I don't think I want to ride," she said and got off her bike. We walked away and sat down beside a tree. "Don't you want to ride with your friends?" I asked. "And I thought you were hoping to start riding your bike to school next year," I added. "I was," she said in a low voice. "You know, honey," I said. "Most everything you do comes with dangers. You could break your arm at gymnastics. Do you want to stop going to the gym?" "No, of course not!" she replied. And with a determined spirit, she stood up and agreed to try again. I held on to the back of her bike until she found the courage to say, "Let's go!" I spent the rest of the afternoon at the park watching a very brave little girl overcome a fear, and congratulating myself for being an independent single parent. As we walked home, pushing the bike as we made our way along the sidewalk, she asked me about a conversation she'd overheard me having with my mother the night before. "Why were you and Grandma arguing last night?" "It's nothing." I told her. She shrugged  . "Grandma said she just wanted you to find someone to love." "What Grandma wants is for some guy to break my heart again," I snapped. "But Mom ..." "You're too young to understand." I told her. She was quiet for the next few minutes. Then she looked up and in a small voice said, "So I guess love isn't like a broken arm." Unable to answer, we walked the rest of the way in silence. When I got home, I let go and agreed to meet a man called Steve. Steve was the man for me. We married less than a year later. It turned out my mother and my daughter were right. What happened to the author's daughter according to the beginning of the passage?
She fell down beside a tree. She broke her arm at gymnastics. She fell off her bike and broke her arm. She broke her leg while learning to ride.
Question: "But what if I break my arm again?" my 5-year-old daughter asked. I knew how much she wanted to learn to ride. Yet ever since she'd fallen off her bike and broken her arm, she'd been afraid. "Oh honey," I said. "I don't think you'll break another arm." "But I could, couldn't I?" "Yes," I admitted, and found myself struggling for the right thing to say. "I don't think I want to ride," she said and got off her bike. We walked away and sat down beside a tree. "Don't you want to ride with your friends?" I asked. "And I thought you were hoping to start riding your bike to school next year," I added. "I was," she said in a low voice. "You know, honey," I said. "Most everything you do comes with dangers. You could break your arm at gymnastics. Do you want to stop going to the gym?" "No, of course not!" she replied. And with a determined spirit, she stood up and agreed to try again. I held on to the back of her bike until she found the courage to say, "Let's go!" I spent the rest of the afternoon at the park watching a very brave little girl overcome a fear, and congratulating myself for being an independent single parent. As we walked home, pushing the bike as we made our way along the sidewalk, she asked me about a conversation she'd overheard me having with my mother the night before. "Why were you and Grandma arguing last night?" "It's nothing." I told her. She shrugged  . "Grandma said she just wanted you to find someone to love." "What Grandma wants is for some guy to break my heart again," I snapped. "But Mom ..." "You're too young to understand." I told her. She was quiet for the next few minutes. Then she looked up and in a small voice said, "So I guess love isn't like a broken arm." Unable to answer, we walked the rest of the way in silence. When I got home, I let go and agreed to meet a man called Steve. Steve was the man for me. We married less than a year later. It turned out my mother and my daughter were right. What happened to the author's daughter according to the beginning of the passage?
A. She fell down beside a tree.
B. She broke her arm at gymnastics.
C. She fell off her bike and broke her arm.
D. She broke her leg while learning to ride.
Answer: