I was standing in the children’s section of a bookstore the other day when I first saw her. A young girl with her back to me was in earnest conversation with one of the clerks. I was guesstimating her age at about 10 maybe 11 years old.
I’d had to edge past her to get around the corner of the aisle where I was looking for some new books for my grandchildren. While I looked at books with titles like “Chicken in Space” and “Paw Patrol to the Rescue” I couldn’t help but hear snippets of their conversation.
They were talking about books. What else? After all it was a bookstore. The young girl lamenting the fact that the store was sold out of the Harry Potter book she needed and the clerk suggesting she try her school library. Helpfully, and clearly using her training and her own love for books, the clerk made several suggestions for other books in a similar theme and their conversation continued while I moved down the aisle and out of earshot.
I wandered the store for a good half hour, probably more, I lose all sense of time when I’m in a bookstore or library. When I finally made my way to the checkout with only one book in hand (for my son not my grandchildren) the young girl I had seen earlier appeared behind me.
That particular bookstore has all sorts of knick knacks and bobbles and toys near the checkout, strategically placed, I’m sure. Behind me I heard the girl say, “Those are cool.” I turned to see what she was looking at. It was some kind of foil wrapped packet of something with Harry Potter graphics branded on the packaging.
“Do you like Harry Potter?” I asked which I realized was a stupid question now that I was actually looking at her.
She was dressed casually in jeans, sneakers, and sweater, but the enormous Harry Potter Gryffindor toque mushrooming off her head made it pretty obvious that she was a fan. Now that I was actually paying attention, there were other things that I noticed as well. Her cheeks looked like someone had wiped diaper cream on them. You know, the thick white pasty stuff? But just a very thin coat, maybe some kind of eczema cream? Whatever it was, it looked unusual. She was stepping from one foot to the other while she talked almost like she really needed a bathroom but I got the sense that this was just part of who she was. She had a new journal in her hand held closely to her chest and a ten dollar bill clutched in her hand.
“Yes. I love Harry Potter. I don’t know if I’m a Gryffindor or a Slytherin though.”
“Well,” I said “there are good things about both of those houses.”
I’m a book nerd, I might know a few things about the Harry Potter wizarding world.
“Yes,” she responded “I hope I figure it out soon though.”
And it was at this point that the clerk and I had finished our transaction and it was time for me to move on. I had actually been carrying on two conversations, the one with the girl and another with the clerk. The clerk had asked if I wanted to redeem the ten dollars from my accumulated points card or if I wanted to keep saving them? I told her just save them since I usually redeem them on Christmas gifts. But just as I turned to walk away with my purchase, I turned back to the clerk because a thought had just occurred to me.
I leaned in and quietly asked, “Wait, can you scan my card and use my points for the girl behind me?”
So she did. I took my card back and turned and left the store with the words of the clerk fading behind me, “You know what? That lady…”. Yes, I felt good about my good deed, but I was thinking about another time in my own life when books had been my escape.
When I was about the same age as the girl in the store, my sister and I each got five dollars for our allowance. I don’t remember how often we were given allowance, probably once a month. For the life of me, I couldn’t tell you what sister spent her money on, but I remember exactly what I did with mine.
While Mom shopped for groceries at the Co-op, sister and I were allowed to go across the street to Woolworths. I would go straight down the stairs to where the books were. Every dime of that five dollars went straight to a new book, Nancy Drew or the Bobbsey Twins, Pippi Longstocking…oh so many books!
School was not always easy for me. No, that’s not right. School was easy, it was navigating the minefield of fitting in that was difficult. I spent an awful lot of time in the school library (when I wasn’t made to go outside) or tucked in a quiet corner outside reading. I could escape into fiction and get through the school day avoiding, for the most part, playground unpleasantness. Mostly this suited me fine because I LOVED to read. I loved everything about books. I loved the way the pages of a new book smelled and felt. I loved the characters and the adventures. I loved that I could get lost in a book and emerge at the end feeling both physically and emotionally sated. Books gave me a place to belong because I could always find my place in them. I could become one of the characters, live that adventure, and come out victorious at the end. I still feel that way after a good book.
I was thinking too, while I walked away, that school was probably not always easy for the Harry Potter-loving girl either. It isn’t easy to be different no matter what it is that sets you apart. It can be heart-breaking and lonely when you don’t understand why others don’t see things the way you do. It’s just plain hard to be a kid sometimes and it isn’t always easier once you become an adult.
But eventually most of us find where we belong. We find people like us, people who understand us, people who like the same things we like, but it can take time. And in the in-between time while we are waiting to find others like us, there are sometimes adults, teachers, librarians, helpers, and parents, who encourage us and build us up. Sometimes it’s a stranger who does a good deed and brightens your day.
That’s what I hope. I hope I brightened that little girl’s day. I know that simple act brightened mine.
And just for the record…if the choice is between Slytherin and Gryffindor, I’m pretty sure she belongs to Gryffindor although Hufflepuff might actually be an even better fit. I’m sure the Sorting Hat would agree.
*Note – For the non-Harry Potter fans out there, the Sorting Hat determined the house (group) placement of new students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry Potter belonged to Gryffindor, a house characterized by courage (sometimes reckless bravery) whereas Hufflepuff is known for loyalty, honesty and tolerance. Slytherin was known for ambition.
