|This wasn't the one I was looking for...|
This book, my magic book, was one I read over and over again at the age of eight. I know I was eight because that was the year Mrs. Rankin, my elementary school librarian, barred me from the older kid's book section on the grounds that some of the material was "inappropriate". In lieu of checking out the racier Judy Blumes, I was stuck reading the same little kid's books over and over until I had them practically memorized, everything except for the title and author's name, of course.
|Neither was this.|
At that moment my husband came downstairs, peaked in my office and said, "Why are you crying?"
"Because I found it," I told him. "And I was meant to find it, at this very moment when our daughter was reading a book by the same author. It's one of those perfect circles of life."