December 4, 2007

Dear Lois Lowry,

Before I read The Giver I was senseless! I was blind. I was deaf. I was basically inert. Sure, I went through the motions of life, but I didn’t appreciate how each day is a miracle. How each time I looked at an apple and the color red shined back into my eyes, is a miracle. How every time I played my violin, or listened to music, is a miracle. How every time I chose to lie, is a miracle. How every morning when I wake up and look at the fading stars and the outlines of rugged mountains, is a miracle. How every time I cry because I am sad, yell because I am angry, or dance because I am happy, is a miracle. How every time I made a choice, is a miracle. How every time I chewed on tasty food, is a miracle. I didn’t understand that everyday that I wake up and my heart is still beating, my lungs are still breathing, my blood is still pumping, and my body is ready to appreciate the world and all of its wonders, is a miracle.

An understatement would be that I used to be unappreciative.

You woke me up. You poured freezing water on my face, banged gongs in my ear, taped smelling salts underneath my nose, until I would listen, and realize that everyday is a beautiful miracle.

Before reading The Giver, I never thought very much. I thought about everyday things, such as what I want for dinner, and the fastest way possible to do my homework. I rushed through every day, never pausing for a breath of life. Then I read The Giver.

Then I learned how to think. I pondered deeply what the world would be like if I was Jonas, or Lily (I imaged each one separately, of course, their views are quite different)! Of what the world would be like without color. Or taste, Or smell, Or music, Or texture.  Of what the world would be like if everybody dressed the same. Or if there were no animals. Or if everyone was good, and those few bad folks were put away. But mostly, I wondered what the world would be like if no one had feelings.

Then I realized that in the utopian lifestyle of The Giver, there is no violence, hunger or poverty. No animals can be mistreated, if there are no animals. No sadness can be felt, if one never knows happiness.

I realized that my life is full of pain. Pain when I fall off my bike and have to get stitches. Pain when my friend yells at me and says she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore. Pain when my grandma died. Pain everywhere and everyday.

But it’s worth it. Feeling pain is a burden that comes along with the joy of happiness and love. Living through the pain for the happiness is what I do, and I’m proud to do it.

Often times I feel like Jonas, shocked to find out that my world isn’t perfect. But then I remember that a perfect world would be horrible.

Now, even after reading The Giver every year since third grade, and once as a class in sixth grade, I still am certain that next time when I read The Giver, I will uncover another secret of life hidden in the pages of that thought-provoking book. I rejoice in my ability to feel pain and love. They are the two best gifts in the world that anyone could give me, and you opened the door for my discovery of them.

Sincerely,

Sarah Frankl

8th grade
Romig Middle School, Anchorage, Alaska
Teacher:  Jennifer Keil