Earlier this spring, I found the children’s book, Heidi, at a garage sale. Snatching it up, I gladly paid a quarter for
it. Warm memories of reading Johanna
Spyri’s lovely tale over and over convinced me purchase the illustrated book
even though I still have my copy from the mid-1960s.
I loved the days our class visited the school
library. By fourth grade, I was hooked
on books, and Heidi was one of my
favorites. I liked to imagine that I was
just as brave and good and lovely as Heidi.
Tonight, I finished the book, which I thoroughly enjoyed again
at the tender age of 63. It is a sweet
and sentimental tale that leaves me homesick for a place in the mountains of
Switzerland that I have never been to—and homesick for all the characters in
the book who still seem so real to me.
But a new realization dawned on me as I read Heidi this time: God used that book to teach
me truths about Him. From it I learned more
about God’s love. I learned the
importance of gladhearted generosity and sincere forgiveness. I learned that God is trustworthy; He hears
and answers our prayers in unexpected ways, though often not in our timing. Perhaps it was not only the sentimental story
that drew me to the book time and again.
Perhaps it was also the Holy Spirit.
You see, I needed mentoring, and I found it in Heidi and other books. There are great gaps in my childhood memories,
and I assume that trauma caused those empty spaces. My father was an alcoholic who went his own
way when I was barely six. I remember
seeing him once when I was seven, and again when I was thirteen. He left my mother with a boatload of debt and
four children, ages eight, six, three, and newborn. Within a year and a half, my mother’s parents—whom
we visited every weekend--died. Mom
taught elementary school physical education and did her best in raising us
four, but there just wasn’t enough of her to go around. I was the shy introvert, rightfully afraid of
my older sister who was simply out of control.
Thus, I can see now that books became my friends and my
teachers. I could escape into a story
and find happiness there. Books have
continued to mentor me through my adult years as well. Whether I am reading nonfiction or novels, God has connected me with just the message I need so many times. What a wonderful God we serve—One who is ever
creative in the ways He reaches out to us.
