![]() Today, I lay on the couch and I knew what was coming. ![]() I wondered if I’d enjoy the Bridge to Terabithia book again, but was quickly sucked into the story. Our last test in my Children’s Lit class is in a few weeks and so I’ve been reading the four assigned books for the exam (Bridge to Terabithia, The Giver, A Wrinkle in Time, and Beowulf: A New Telling). The writing is so simple, so unadorned and then the ending hits you like a ton of bricks. And I even more rarely cry over books or movies. I sobbed through the last twenty pages, trying to be quiet so as not to awaken my snoozing roommate. ![]() I’d never read it before and I only vaguely knew what was going to happen from snippets I’d heard over the years. She quickly fell asleep and I finished the whole Bridge to Terabithia book. I remember coming home from church and my roommate and I each lay down on a couch in the living room. I’d read Bridge to Terabithia in the summer of 2005. When I read Jacob Have I Loved last year, I was disappointed in it not only because the book itself didn’t thrill me, but because it couldn’t come close to comparing with Bridge to Terabithia. ![]()
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