I was lucky enough to acquire a large group of books over the internet a few weeks ago, and I was pleased to see that some of them were children’s books. I thought these would be great for my younger grandchildren. On impulse, before I gave them the books I decided to read them myself. That is how I came to read “A Wrinkle In Time” by Madeleine L’Engle. I had not read this book when I was a child, but as soon as I began, it took me back to many of the books that I did read, such as “The Chronicles Of Narnia” by C.S. Lewis, or the “Magic Or Not” series by Edward Eager. I could see that when I was a child I had a different way of seeing and understanding things. I seemed to be able to understand these books right away – there was the constant presence of good and evil, and an ongoing battle between the two forces; impossible things were possible; these books made perfect sense.
Throughout my life I grew further and further away from this clear sight of my childhood – my thoughts became much more earth-oriented and practical, and my vision smaller and smaller. Then as a senior I began taking more time to read and to study new things, and to look at things in a different way. When I picked up this book I realized that I was much closer now to my early impressions and openness.
At the back of the book was a speech that Madeleine L’Engle wrote upon acceptance of the Newbery Medal. She speaks about what it means to be a writer, and how it is that writers write. This also had meaning for me as I saw my own progress towards being a writer, or rather always being a writer, but progressing towards being a better writer, and sometimes, a different kind of writer from what I might first have imagined.