This day is still vivid for me. I even remember the red shirt I was wearing. I was in Mrs. Fleming’s third grade class and it was our reading block for the day. I must have left my book at home when I chose a book from the plastic bins in the back of the room. I’m glad I forgot my book that day because I probably would not have been introduced to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling until after the movies had been released.
I recall not paying attention to the lessons after reading block and come and gone. My nose was stuck in that book and I would sneak page after page when Mrs. Fleming was doing something else.
The point of fiction is to transport your mind into the author’s world completely and take a break from society. I have never been so drawn into a story so quickly as I did with Harry Potter and his wizarding world.
Like many other kids my age, I wanted to be a apart of it so badly. For my eight year old self, having magical powers and going away to a secret school to learn magic was the greatest escape I had ever heard. I believe the year that book came out I dressed up as Hermione Granger for Halloween. (If I find a picture of it, I will gladly post.)
The four houses, the pet animals, the broomsticks, and that scar. It’s story about friendship, courage and accepting each other’s differences. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone is the first book I ever fell in love with and one of the only stories (or series) that has stuck with me through my teenage years.
