I Cried My Eyes Out at Charlotte Brontë's Home
I’ve always loved Jane Eyre. I thought she was wonderful, kind, independent, smart, talented, and brave. I read the book and watched the BBC movie and thought about what it would be like to live on those moors, with all the open space and the huge, dimly lit stone house. When I went to Northern England, I saw the same things Charlotte Brontë did. I saw the same streets, the same trees, the same moss and I, Aliana Schaeffer, stood in that woman’s very home, where she walked and lived and ate and laughed and I stood in the same room where she sat down and wrote, by hand, (because there weren’t lovely things like laptops yet), my most favourite book in the world. How could I not cry? I may not love camping, but I love nature. I love finding caterpillars and worms and I love waterfalls more than most things. I love being in places I feel fairies would be and I collect rocks, not so much because I like or want to, but because I feel an irresistible urge to have them an...
Comments
Post a Comment