Liza Martz, a fellow writer with whom I’d communicated online but not met in person, came to the festival. With that aforementioned gift.
I’ll let her describe it:
It was a book I kept with me all my life. I kept it next to my bed and read it when I felt scared, even as an adult. On 9/11/01, I went to a thrift store to hide from the horror if the day and found it in the book section for a dime. Even though I had my own copy I got it and have held onto it until I found the right person to give it to. It had to be someone who treasured the book as much as I did and still do. And you are that person. Phew. It finally has a good home!
The book: David and the Phoenix, written by Edward Ormondroyd, first published in 1957.
And this is the reason Liza so kindly gave this 1958 edition to me.
Thank you again, Liza. It was a moving gesture.