Because of Winn-Dixie

by Kate DiCamillo

Sometimes he reminded me of a turtle hiding inside its shell, in there thinking about things and not ever sticking his head out into the world.

I could understand the way Winn-Dixie felt. Getting left behind probably made his heart feel empty.

I loved the preacher so much. I loved him because he loved Winn-Dixie. I loved him because he was going to forgive Winn-Dixie for being afraid. But most of all, I loved him for putting his arm around Winn-Dixie like that, like he was already trying to keep him safe.

you got to remember, you can’t always judge people by the things they done. You got to judge them by what they are doing now.

I wondered if my mama, wherever she was, had a tree full of bottles; and I wondered if I was a ghost to her, the same way she sometimes seemed like a ghost to me.

It was important to me to hear how Littmus survived after losing everything he loved.

Littmus W. Block figured the world was a sorry affair and that it had enough ugly things in it and what he was going to do was concentrate on putting something sweet in it.

“Sorrow,” Miss Franny said. “Not everybody can taste it. Children, especially, seem to have a hard time knowing it’s there.”

“Other people’s tragedies should not be the subject of idle conversation. There was no reason for me to tell you.”

I lay there and thought how life was like a Littmus Lozenge, how the sweet and the sad were all mixed up together and how hard it was to separate them out. It was confusing.

I thought about my mama. Thinking about her was the same as the hole you keep on feeling with your tongue after you lose a tooth. Time after time, my mind kept going to that empty spot, the spot where I felt like she should be.

“But sometimes things are so sad they get to be funny.”

“There ain’t no way you can hold on to something that wants to go, you understand? You can only love what you got while you got it.”