I waited 33 years to meet Lois Lowry. 33 years might seem like a long time, but as I never actually believed it would happen, the wait didn’t feel so long. I’ve moved 16x since I read Anastasia Krupnik, but I arrived at the book signing line last Wednesday night, original text in hand; while I’ve lost many things since my childhood, I’d never lose my Anastasia. She was my best childhood friend. Ms. Lowry spoke for 90 minutes, but I could have sat there all night. She is bright, articulate, interesting, with a witty and unexpected turn of phrase. It was clear she did not suffer fools, but has a compassion for children which I find hard to describe. The wisdom that comes from surviving a full life while writing TWO Newbery winners runs deep.

I sat there on that icy night, soaking in every syllable from an author who changed my life, and I was overcome by how powerful the moment felt. I wish I could have recorded it and replayed it over and over, like a much-loved movie. As I can’t share her words because recording devices were not allowed (and bringing in wine was also forbidden, but my friend who joined me and I seriously considered it…to take in such an event without so much as a toast of champagne felt wrong), I can share a favorite poem of Lois Lowry’s, which she quoted in her speech. It speaks to a quiet part of my soul which does not use words to communicate, and it resonates across my pool of friends, many of whom are facing big changes. Lois Lowry did not write this poem, but I’m not surprised she shared something I shall keep forever. Thank you Ms. Lowry, for flying to Indy in the winter, for sharing your story, and for creating Anastasia Krupnik. I will forever cherish meeting you, speaking with you, and sharing my love of this character with you.

Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.