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| Sammy Joe and Donna |
Like magic, "Harry Potter" transforms a hotel breakfast room peopled by strangers into a coffee clatch of best friends.
And all because I ask the the desk clerk (a spritely young woman — she hides her wand well — with impossibly short hair, a dimpley smile and a passion for books) if she had read the J.K. Rowling series.
Oh my, the response.
First, it's Donna, over by the wall, who swings around and says, “Oh, YES! I pre-ordered each one and just counted down the days for them to arrive.”
Her own kids didn’t catch the fever. But her niece and nephew did. She now doles out her precious copies to them at age appropriate times.
Sammy Joe, sitting at the next table over from me, grins: “My grandson and I learned to read using "Harry Potter".”
What?
He repeats: “I learned to read, with my grandson, and "Harry Potter".”
I catch my breath. Because I believe there is no more powerful prose than that which opens a lifetime of adventure.
The conversation continues and it’s just so magical.
But then I realize I never heard from my dimply sprite. I look around and she’s gone back to work, all the while sprinkling her fairy dust behind her.
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