(below is a sample of a student's letter to the author. This is not the complete letter.)
Dear, Roald Dahl,
...
There are some things in life that make you happy just because: a hot bubble bath after a week of camping; a baby’s toothless grin; watching giant snowflakes float down from the heavens and land like butterfly kisses in children’s tousled hair; finding a crumpled $20 bill in your coat pocket from last spring; gazing into a star-filled sky. Sometimes things don’t need explanations — they are simply endearing and wonderful. Matilda is one of these things.
Something in Matilda makes me inexplicably happy anytime I read it, like the pheromone in babies that makes you want to kiss them. You don’t know why, but that’s not really the issue. All you know is that you’re happy and that’s enough. Matilda accurately describes this wonderful sensation as “ . . . flying past the stars on silver wings.” So I would simply like to say thank you, Roald Dahl, for everything. You gave me my silver wings and now I can fly.
Sincerely,
Jane E.
