My daughters discovered Harry Potter this year and the Daniel Radcliffe-Rupert Grint-Emma Watson mania intensifies everyday. Their bedroom of course, has been transformed into a freedom wall, the latest inscription being “the chamber of secrets has been opened…” in bold, blood-red water color. The banana cue sticks have become colorful wands and their grandma’s plants have become bald after they were daily harvested of leaves to make quills. Screams of “expelliarmus” and “stupefy” echo around the house as they chase each other clad in their father’s and their grandpa’s loose and unbuttoned polos. They have even begun to sport a trying-hard British accent when talking to me. Athena nags me everyday to buy a copy of “Prisoner of Azkaban” [she has finished the first two books of the seven series]. But since we could not afford it just yet, she settles grudgingly for my automatic “later” replies. I pray the television and the DVD player can bear the burden of replaying the movies over and over.
Thanks JK Rowling for sharing your magnificent masterpiece to the world. The magic and mystique of Harry Potter have captured and stirred my girls’ [like so many other children out there] imagination and introduced them to a world where courage, friendship, love, loyalty, and goodness prevail.