Happy birthday, Madeleine.

You taught us little girls about a lot of things when we were growing up-- but predominately about ourselves. It wasn't Meg Murray that we were reading about in A Wrinkle in Time, it wasn't her freckled face and bespectacled eyes that handsome Calvin found appealing even before the lot of them were swept off into time and space and wonderment. It was very much our own awkwardness that we were devouring on your pages-- that we were learning to wield like a sword against the darkness of our own world.

Thank you for taking us across the universe and back and showing us that the evil is just a room without any lights on, and that we have the power to change that. You taught us about worldly morals, your own Christian ideals guiding us with human morality through adventures and a world of science that was both fantastical and factual.

You followed the O'Keefe lineage after Meg and Calvin married with your prolific body of work, series of series. Aunt Beast never let anyone down-- and neither did you.

So, Madeleine. You earned more than just a Newbery, more than the National Book Award. You've earned the respect and deep, quiet love of a million and more little kids; little kids who now work in book stores, in science laboratories, in places that make this world function and go and continue on. You've earned the love of generations of men and women who now read to their own little Margarets and Charles Wallaces every night before bed.

So, you, reader. Go pick upĀ A Wrinkle in Time, go take some time to yourself and work your way through the world she built just for you.

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