Later that night, Jack came and sat next to Bull and asked if he could borrow the rabbit. Bull handed Edward over, and Jack sat with Edward upon his knee. He whispered in Edward’s ear. “Helen,” Jack said, “and Jack Junior and Taffy — she’s the baby. Those are my kids’ names. They are all in North Carolina. You ever been to North Carolina? It’s a pretty state. That’s where they are. Helen. Jack Junior. Taffy. You remember their names, okay, Malone?”
. . . .
Edward knew what it was like to say over and over again the names of those you had left behind. He knew what it was like to miss someone. And so he listened. And in his listening, his heart opened wide and then wider still.
We write to remember, we write to reflect. Fiction or non, your stories matter. Who will you honor on the page?
* DiCamillo, Kate; Ibatoulline, Bagram (2009-08-30). The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane (p. 103). Candlewick Press. Kindle Edition.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Brings to mind, Chekhov’s “Heartache.” Thanks for posting.
Happy to share great words from an excellent story. 😊 That quote is from a pivotal part of Edward’s tale.