Wonderland

   One rainy summer day my mother drove me to our local library. Browsing through the books on the shelves, my finger paused on a dusty copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Curious, I settled down in my favorite corner and cracked open Carroll’s classic. Instantly, I was transported to this whimsical world called Wonderland. I vividly remember falling down that rabbit hole. I saw what Alice saw. I felt what Alice felt. In the pit of my stomach, I developed that flip-flop feeling. Reaching in front of me, I grabbed a jar in freefall. This was my first taste of orange marmalade. I recall that little mouse Alice and I frightened off. “Ou est ma chatte?” was the first French phrase I ever learned.

      This enchantment did not end here. Lewis Carroll kept me enthralled with his amusing poems and clever puns. Have you ever attended an atypical tea party with a dormouse, a mad hatter, and a march hare? I have, and let me tell you, I’m still scratching my head over “why is a raven like a writing desk?” I haven’t the slightest idea. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay longer at the tea party, because my mother was calling for me. Time to go home. Not quite ready to depart so soon from Wonderland, I closed the book carefully and presented it to the librarian. I smiled, handing over my golden library card.

“This is a wonderful book,” she said.

And still to this very day, I concur.