It started with a book clutched to her chest. “I just love this book,” Stella said, hearts practically drifting over her head.

I knew the book. Out of My Mind, by Sharon M. Draper. My fifth grade self would have loved it but the teacher in me despised the way the adults condoned and participated in awful treatment of the main character, a young girl trapped in her body with no way of communicating.

The book clutching incident with Stella came on a day when I was working with the classroom teacher to rally readers to set lofty goals, to read more and more. “It looks like you’re almost done,” I said. “What will you read next?”

Stella shrugged, a slight frown spreading across her face. “I just started reading a book that I was actually thinking reminded me of Out of My Mind. I’ll bring it in for you to check out,” I promised.

It was true. As I had started reading Lucky Broken Girl, by Ruth Behar, I knew it had the tragic elements that kids who beg for “a really sad book” crave.

Truth be told, it took me a few days with reminders from Stella and finally a post it stuck to my phone, to remember to grab the book from my nightstand. When I finally handed The Lucky Broken Girl to Stella, I held my breath as she read over the back blurb. “Looks good. I’ll try it,” she said, ready to jump right in.

Over the next few days Stella grew to love this new book. She’d stop me in the hall to talk about what she had learned, her face lighting up as she recalled the plot or the characters.

Then, less than a week later, Stella, appeared at my door hugging Lucky Broken Girl. “I finished,” she said with a look that told me she was sad it was over.

We poured over my bookshelf together looking for her next book to love, something that has since become an almost weekly occurrence- one that I look forward to.

Today, we had a book fair event at our local Barnes and Noble. I made sure things ran smoothly and helped kids shop for books, taking time to admire the busy scene. Part of me was a little sad I didn’t know more families, something I miss from my classroom teaching days.

I was a little taken aback as a parent approached me as if she knew me. I introduced myself and she told me she was Stella’s mom. I smiled. “My book buddy!” I exclaimed making the connection.

“I know!” she said.

My heart swelled and I was once again reminded of the power of reading and sharing that joy with others.