I am part of the Harry Potter generation. I grew up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, from my first introduction to them until I read the last word of the last book. My third grade teacher, Ms. Proctor, read The Sorcerer’s Stone aloud to us in class, and I eagerly read ahead and bought all the available books. After the fourth book came out, I spent a week afraid Voldemort was lurking in the darkness outside our sliding glass door. I did most of my middle school math homework and chores to the sound of the audio books, laughing again and again, reliving every second of the story. I went to see the movies with my dad, who read the books with me; I went to a midnight release party for the last book, dressed in old graduation robes and wearing a ribbon that said “Trust Snape” and read until two a.m., went to work, and finished the book in one sobbing gulp when I came home.
I adore Harry Potter. It’s been one of the most-read books in my life, and I’m honored today to be writing about how Harry Potter has influenced my faith over at Off the Page. Read the rest here.