This past weekend, I had the privilege of attending a bustling craft fair with over 400 vendors. Among the creative displays of handmade jewelry, artwork, and holiday décor, I was there to share my story about Annie the Porcupine.
While it wasn’t the most financially successful event I’ve attended, it was one that deeply touched my heart. For me, selling books has never been just about sales. It’s about the 'why' behind my stories—about creating representation for every child, including the ones who don’t celebrate the “traditional” holidays. Annie’s journey is about more than just why she celebrates differently; it’s about the importance of recognizing and honoring those differences.
One conversation stood out above all others that day. A woman stopped by my booth, curious about the inspiration for Annie. I shared how my own childhood, shaped by my family’s unique traditions, influenced my desire to write books that reflect diverse experiences. I told her how important it is for every child to have a book where they see themselves—not as “weird” or “different,” but as valuable and understood.
As we talked, I noticed tears welling in her eyes. I stopped mid-sentence, concerned that I had upset her. But she quickly reassured me, saying, “Don’t apologize. I’m just so happy that you’re doing this. That you’re giving that child a voice.”
She then opened up about her childhood. Growing up with a mother who struggled with personal demons and an unstable foster care experience, she rarely felt the magic of the holidays. Each year, her classmates would return from winter break, wearing new clothes and with stories of new toys and family traditions. She had no tree, no gifts, no celebrations. The isolation and hurt she described made my heart ache.
Her story wasn’t my story, but we both understood what it felt like to be left out, to feel unseen. As tears filled my own eyes, I gave her a hug. She thanked me for writing Annie’s story, for giving children like her younger self a voice, and then walked away.
As I watched her leave, I was reminded of why I do what I do. My dream for Annie’s story is for it to be in every classroom, reaching every child who feels unseen or out of place. I want every child to know: You are not alone. You are not weird. You are seen.
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