If you were curious about where I discovered my passion for reading, I can tell you. I was six, sitting criss cross apple sauce in my rug spot of Ms. Caroline’s first grade classroom. That, I remember fondly. No one wanted to play with the quirky gal with massive bed head, but that was fine. While the other kids were off with building blocks and cooking with plastic utensils, I had a corner on a rug with some dear friends: Eric Carle, Laura Numeroff, Kevin Hankes, E.B. White and, my personal favorite, Kate DiCamillo.

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane was not just a way to pass time or an excuse to advance my education, but was a tale that sparked my love for reading and writing, and enhanced my imagination. I never thought that a children’s book had the capability of changing my outlook on life, oh was I wrong. Once I was hooked on her writing I demanded my parents find me every book she ever wrote, and I then grew infatuated with  The Tale of Despereaux and Because of Winn-Dixie which I read a bunch more times. It didn’t just widen my imagination, but it distracted my mom from reality and opened her mind once again.This book supplied empathy, love, adventure, selflessness, determination, family, and a variety of experience that I regained each time I read it. Now that I look back on it, I wonder if I would be willing to complete the high ropes course or dance in public or even speak up if I hadn’t been so inspired and comforted by a rabbit trying something new and terrifying, yet amazing. Who would have thought that a once privileged rabbit could show me how the small moments and seemingly mundane experiences completely out of your comfort zone are the ones that mold you and teach you the most valuable lessons of life. I thank Edward Tulane for that.