A Minion Madness Mommy Note: What The Witch Left (Passing It On)
I can recall laying on my bedroom floor, my feet up flat on the wall, my head on a pillow, reading a book I found at a yard sale with my Mom. I couldn't have been more than seven years old, but I had long before then learned to read. More than that, I had learned to LOVE to read. Books offered entire other worlds and escapes, especially when I was sad or angry (or grounded for getting into my own mischief.)
I loved all things fantastical. Unicorns and magic and amazing far off places that could only be seen in the words of a book. So when I came across 'What The Witch Left' by Ruth Chew, I knew I had to have it. One dollar at a yard sale, and my afternoon was complete.
The read was perfect for my age, quick and engrossing. Two young girls, friends, play with some things an Aunt has left in a drawer. Things that, for all intents and purposes look completely ordinary and harmless, are actually magic. From gloves that make talents easier to a bathrobe that disappears when put on (this book was written in 1973, so it is NOT a ripoff of Harry Potter, just saying...), the girls find themselves having some amusing and sometimes slightly naughty adventures.
It's an innocent book about friendship and the difference between right and wrong. And it's also a great introductory to, well... the magic of magic.
In our world, things can be so serious. School can be hard, navigating social pathways even harder, and home life for many children can be more stressful than I think many of us realize. I can remember being a kid, growing up with parents who were either fighting half the time or not talking the other half. My room was my sanctuary and my books were my escape. Believing in the magic that existed in other worlds helped me navigate mine. Not because I was naive enough to think I could make that magic exist here, but because I knew that -like the people in my books- I could find whatever magic I needed inside myself.
Abbie, my nine year old girl, loves to read and write, just as much as I did (and still do.) Deciding to give her my faded, well read copy of 'What The Witch Left' was a no-brainer. I was delighted to see her begin reading it right away, losing herself in the browned pages instantly. Her eyes lit up, a smile on her lips from time to time. Even a giggle escaped her mouth as she laid there, curled up in her own comfy reading position. It reminded me so much of myself. And it made me happy to think that she too could have an escape, and see worlds that could only be found in a collection of cover-bound pages.
This week, we are having a 'tech free week'. No television, no video games. Just imaginations, books, music and each other. After dinner, we decided we would have a nice long bout of story-time. We took all the cushions off the couch and made a pile that we all happily collapsed into, the girls covering themselves in the green comforter that never leaves the living room while John and Ethan wrestled into the perfect haphazard positions on a single cushion. And I sat before them and read.
What was the first book the kids chose for me to read? 'What The Witch Left'. I read for a good hour, pausing from time to time to ask questions. "Why did this happen? What do you think that will do? Was that a good thing? What would you do?" The discussions were light-hearted and fun. And the kids urged me to read on. We got half-way through the book tonight. I'm sure we'll finish it tomorrow.
In a way, I felt like I was reading them a piece of history. A piece of MY history, to be exact. Because 'What The Witch Left' was never really just a book to me. It was one of the first times magic, honest and innocent, was introduced to me. And it is a book that I kept all these years, as I grew up and moved out and got married and had children of my own. Children who are now enjoying the very same pages and very same words my once little hands had held.
Though the pages are worn and the images are faded and the cover is in need of mending, the book still has a great deal of magic in it. Not just because of the story, which is fun and magical all on its own. But because it's still able to capture me. And because it's capturing my children. It's capturing us all together. Proof that stories are ageless, timeless and always magical, especially when shared generation to generation...
