One Child's Inspiration

As a child, I could often be found with my nose buried in a book.  At recess, I would sit on the edge of the playground, tuning out the hoots and hollers of the other kids, and absorb myself in my latest find.  I would go to bed before bed time, giving myself time to read before lights out.  When I became older and more reluctant to close my books, I would either use a flashlight to read by or claim I needed the hall light on and read by that dim light. 

It was not just that I loved reading, books and their characters filled an emotional void that I always seemed to have.  The character I connected with most was Sara Crewe, in A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett.  She would draw me into her story, allowing me to watch and feel what she was going through.  She was my friend and my inspiration. 

Our friendship was firmly cemented early on in the book when I learned of Sara’s special relationship with her doll, Emily.  Sara felt the same way about Emily, that I felt about my dolls, they were our companions.  We also shared a belief  that dolls were alive, however, they only chose to move about and talk when their humans were not around. With such special, almost secret things in common, I felt as if I had known Sara all of my life. 

As a child, my family traveled and moved a great deal.  I was always encountering new people. The variety of people I met could be overwhelming.  Some looked very different than I did, or they spoke a language I could not understand, many even had a culture that I was unfamiliar with.  Sara Crewe taught me to look past a person’s differences and see them for who they were on the inside. 

What I learned from her allowed me to play with kids who did not speak my language, nor could I speak theirs.  We got to know each better that way.  We relied on body language and hand gestures to communicate for us.  Without Sara inspiring me to really look at a person, I would not have discovered that body language does not lie. 

One of the best friendships I had when I was growing up probably would not have happened without Sara Crewe’s influence.  Sara had opened my mind and heart to the joys of getting to know someone who was completely different than I was.  So when I met this girl, who was so different from me, I was ready to begin a friendship with her.  Culturally, this girl and I were worlds apart.  I spoke English and barely one other language. She spoke three languages, including English and a language that was very specific to the area we were living in.  Because our early years were spent on two separate continents, our interests were very different.  Yet, even with all these differences we forged a friendship.

As an abused pauper, Sara Crewe showed a strength and a sense of inner peace that awed me.  No matter what her circumstances were, she showed kindness and respect for other people, even when they treated her badly.  However, as much as I appreciated these qualities in her, the way she used her imagination to rise above her circumstances and to keep a positive attitude impressed me the most. 

Sara had a way of transporting herself to places far away. She used this ability to comfort herself when her days were long, hard, and full of sadness.  She showed me that even if there was not a physical way to escape a difficult situation, that I could escape with my mind.  She taught me that there was no place too far away for my imagination to take me.  With her help, I discovered that what I imagined could comfort me in a world that felt comfortless. 

As I have grown older, Sara has remained my constant companion and friend.  She has been with me through every trial and tribulation I have faced, still providing me with comfort and inspiration.  Reminding me that no matter what our circumstances are, we can find moments of happiness. 

Over the years, I dreamed about the day that I could introduce Sara to my daughter.  It was exciting to think that my daughter would have a chance to enjoy Sara's friendship and influence in much the same way I did.  When that day finally arrived, I gave my daughter my precious copy of  Sara's story, and told her how much it meant to me.  As I had hoped, my daughter was as enthralled with Sara as I had been the first time I met her. 

Never far away from me, Sara's story is among my treasured possessions.  Now, I dream of the day when my daughter has a daughter of her own and we can introduce Sara to a third generation.  My hope is that like a precious heirloom that is passed from one family member to the next, Sara's friendship will bless many generations of women in my family.

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