In Other Words

I have a weird and wonderful sense of history repeating itself, or something akin to that. If you’ve been reading here for a while, you know my first encounter with Tolkien and The Hobbit was in grade three, when my 23-yr-old teacher Mrs. Henderson, on whom I had a giant crush, took us out to the cemetery next door (I went to a Catholic school that was situated next door to the church of the same name), where we all gathered under a large tree and she ceremoniously opened a large format hardcover book covered in plastic and began to read.

If I thought I was in love then, I was mistaken. Under that tree, surrounded by mossy headstones on midsummer afternoons, I adored Mrs. Henderson and I love her still for fostering my love of hobbits and the magical land of Middle Earth. Those books have been formative for me.

So imagine my absolute delight when the very same book was discarded from the library years later and my mom brought it home for me!! And then imagine my absolute horror when the friend I lent it to lost it. And THEN imagine my wonder when, years later, this boy named Colin VanderMeulen produced the very same edition, only softcover, from his personal collection of books. I think I proposed to him then and there.

And now, almost 10 years later, imagine this: Colin-boy and Lucy-girl lounging on the couch across from me, their backdrop my wall of books, and me, copy of Tolkien’s and my beloved Hobbit in my lap. I’m finally reading it aloud to my little family!

Really. Can there be anything better?