This is actually the letter I wrote to Madeleine a few years ago. I'm sad today so I thought I would just post this. It doesn't come close enough to expressing my gratitude, but nothing ever will.
Dear Madeleine:
I’d like to introduce myself: my name is Molly Blaisdell and I am a life-long fan. I’m 39-years-old, and I’ve tried to write this letter so many times, I’ve lost count. It’s hard to put into words my gratitude for the gift of your stories.
It all began when I was thirteen-years old. I read A Wrinkle in Time and it changed my life. I was a struggling student in school, barely literate and angry about just about everything. Your story drove a fire for books inside me. I felt like Meg was my best friend and I felt like you were too. Meg gave me hope that things would work out. You opened my eyes to the brilliance of a loving God. I’ve continued reading your books and go back to them again and again. You’ve challenged me in so many ways and helped me find my path. You gave a failing child hope and, ultimately, gave me courage to write my own stories.
I always pray, “Lord, whatever Madeleine is having, I will have two helpings.” Your writing is such an inspiration to me. I spend my time willing to fail, because I’ll never accomplish anything unless I take the risk -- more of your sage advice threading its way through my life.
If my life were a quilt, more than a few of the patches would be devoted to you and your stories. Strands of your faith and belief run through every thread that is holding this quilt together. I will meet you in paradise, if not sooner.
To love, to love
Above all we know
We need to love.
I’m almost frustrated because sometimes words don’t even get into the neighborhood of our true thoughts. Here are the easy ones – thank you.
Molly Blaisdell
"No man is an Iland, intire of itselfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Manor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee."- -MEDITATION XVII, Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, John Donne
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