Again and Again

For the past hour I have sat looking up books and reading summaries of stories that I have previously read. I love books. The ability people have to string letters together, how those letters turn into words and those words create pictures and personalities and places that I have never encountered before. I finally settled on this book, Pictures of Hollis Woods, because it is the first novel I can ever remember reading over and over again. I bought it at the Book Fair sometime in elementary school...maybe third or forth grade. It is the story of a young girl, Hollis, and her struggle growing up in foster care. She is continuously being passed from one family to another. Because of her stubbornness and highly emotional personality, Hollis is often in trouble and taken out of many homes. When she isn't pushed out, she runs. Until she finds her 'family'. They are perfect for her. A mother, father, and son. She fits in the spaces between them as if they were made just for her to fill.

And then she ruins it. Hollis' bold pride drives her and her newfound brother to the top of a hill, then slipping back down leaves him badly injured. So Hollis runs.

Her next home is with Josie, a forgetful and loving old artist. As Hollis realizes that Josie is not fit to be a foster care-taker, but rather needs someone to tend to her needs, Hollis creates a plan to free them both from the system she hates so much.

Although I don't have any experience with foster care, I have my fair share of stubbornness. Of getting myself into trouble because of my unfailing pride. Like Hollis, I get restless when I feel that those I am around don't understand me. I get an itch and I want to run. Although my running days took me to places like the playroom under the stairs or the swing set out back, I was running none the less. 

I read that book again in High School and saw much of myself in the Hollis that wants to care for those around her. She loves the responsibility of caring for Josie. That precious grandmother being entrusted to her care causes Hollis to turn outward. As I gained treasured relationships during those years, I felt as Hollis did and wanted to put their needs first. I learned to live outside myself. 

Again in college I read the familiar story, again connecting to Hollis in all her strength and tenacity. I was turning ever more independent as she is. Hollis and I, we have this tendency to love hard. And be hard to love. But when the love is there, we will never let it go. 

That is the beauty, for me, of a good story. It can be visited time and time again, always with a new lesson to give.