The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane

by Kate DiCamillo

Perhaps, he thought, it is not too late, after all, for me to be saved.

Never in his life had Edward been cradled like a baby. Abilene had not done it. Nor had Nellie. And most certainly Bull had not. It was a singular sensation to be held so gently and yet so fiercely, to be stared down at with so much love. Edward felt the whole of his china body flood with warmth.

“I have already been loved,” said Edward. “I have been loved by a girl named Abilene. I have been loved by a fisherman and his wife and a hobo and his dog. I have been loved by a boy who played the harmonica and by a girl who died. Don’t talk to me about love,” he said. “I have known love.”

You must be filled with expectancy. You must be awash in hope. You must wonder who will love you, whom you will love next.”

If you have no intention of loving or being loved, then the whole journey is pointless.

“Open your heart,” she said gently. “Someone will come. Someone will come for you. But first you must open your heart.”