Today I reminisced about a time when I was maybe about 7 or 8 years old when my uncle came to visit from Vancouver with my Grandma. He bought us a fairytales book and I remember being whisked away to an alternate universe full of magic and make-believe.
When you’re a child, books are a way to broaden our imagination. Although many of them have fairytale endings, not all books end with a happily ever after. Though, happy or not, books are magical because the simple action of reading those words on a page make the story come to life. It’s unreal how a story can encapsulate so much emotion and bring about a multitude of questions after each reading. Books feed our minds and put us in a place where anything is possible. My love for books grew and even today, reading is what inspires many of my own stories.