It was Molly who drew the line. I know this. Before I even open the tattered cover, I know this is the very first thing I will be told. And I know exactly where it will lead. And everything that will follow.
But I open the cover anyway, settle into my chair, and begin reading.
I've read Lois Lowry's A Summer to Die at least once a year since the fourth grade. Sometimes (usually) more. I blame Meg for this. Meg (Molly's younger sister), somehow, got me long before I was ever able to articulate "me" on my own. Long before I realized that I should articulate "me"on my own.
When I read "being both determined and unsure at the same time is what makes me the way I am, I think: hasty, impetuous, sometimes angry over nothing, often miserable about everything," and only three pages into the book, no less, I knew my fourth grade self had found a kindred soul in Meg Chalmers. The girl who felt most comfortable behind her camera's lens, who wanted the familiarity of home, who envied her older sister, who craved a tiny little space just for herself, who was unsure and strong all at the same time.
She does what needs to be done. She handles the situations she must. She learns to love who she is.
Maybe I wasn't exactly like her, but I could see glimpses of myself in her. I aspired to her.
Maybe I still do.
And when Will Banks calls her beautiful, I never fail to cry.
tell it to me tuesdays