I have quite a pile of books in our apartment’s nightstand. From French books, to International Studies books and some general reference books. In this lot, I only have only two fiction books. One was ‘Harry Potter and the Cursed Child’, while the other was something loaned to me by my officemate:
The wonder that is ‘Wonder’
I had the book for several weeks now, but it was only until last night that I finally opened the book. I remember two of my officemates (who I deeply respect and enjoy talking to) that this book will make me believe in humanity again. Not that I already lost the rose-colored glasses that I have, but it is difficult not to be jaded at times in our line of duty (THAT topic is for a separate post).
So, I opened up the book at 10:00 PM, and I found myself turning page after page until I had to sternly tell myself that I had to sleep because I still have work the day after. You see, my friends in the office were not kidding. The things written at the back cover were true as well. The book was indeed filled with characters who you can’t help but root for.
Several times, I even ask myself why this children’s novel is getting into me. Maybe it struck a chord on how the lives we are currently leading now made us see only the worst from people. There is still kindness out there, and our ability to empathize with others and dig deep is indeed instinctive. It is there, only if we know how to channel this capability again.
I know I’m still an idealist at heart, but I try to temper it with a healthy dose of realism and skepticism. Realizing the pitfalls of human existence is a step towards being figuratively on the fence and weighing your options to make informed decisions.
We are all like Auggie. There will always be people bringing us down and telling us off for things we do not have control or no longer have control of. Be it our skin color, preference, health condition and whatnot. There will always be people who’d try to knock us down and demoralize us. But the good thing about this is that the world also offers an equal, if not greater, number of people who’d genuinely look out for us and make sure we’d get through.
It took me exactly six hours to finish R.J. Palaci0’s novel. But similar to a handful of fiction books I read (I’m not usually a fan of fiction), I try to stall the last few pages, in denial that it was about to end. August is a reminder that life is still worth living and things will get better, as long as we learn how to stand up and keep our heads up to the sky.
