This is around the age I was when “lights out” meant flashlight on! I used to sneak out of bed and peer lovingly at my overly stickered bookcase. The top shelf held favorite tiny stuffed animals. The other two, worlds of wonder.
Each book meant something to me.
Each cover invited a new journey.
Every glossy page felt smooth to the touch.
In my innocence, I never pondered how the yellowish-orange flashlight and evening’s pick made their way from under my pillow (what a clever hiding spot!) to the bookcase. It could only have been magic (and not my teacher/mother who was beyond excited by her newly minted bookworm!).
I hope that the stories I tell about real heroes hidden by history inspire, educate, and delight…before magically making their way back to the bookshelf!
