I wrote this essay to join the contest of Powerbooks called “Inspired! A Tribute to the Book that Started It All.” Entries are supposed to be about the book that started one’s love affair with reading. I had a tough time deciding which book to write about, so I was only able to write this on the day before the deadline. Thankfully, I won 3rd place.

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“I may be strong-minded, but no one can say I’m out of my sphere now, for woman’s special mission is supposed to be drying tears and bearing burdens.”

– Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

It’s hard to remember the exact moment when I realized that I loved reading. All I know is that as a kid, I would read everything in the house – labels on shampoo bottles, my Dad’s theology books, old issues of Reader’s Digest. I discovered the wonders of the school library when I was in kindergarten, and would spend countless hours stretched out on the carpet with a Sesame Street book. By the time I was in Grade 3, I have progressed to illustrated versions of Nick Joaquin’s classics like The Woman Who Had Two Navels. The world of Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys opened up to me when I was in Grade 5, and I would take home five books at a time, intent on finishing the entire series in the shortest time possible.

Due to my limited allowance, I would very rarely buy books of my own. I was happy enough to borrow books from classmates and the library, mainly because I don’t often re-read books anyway. One reading is usually enough, so there’s no point in buying my own copy.

I don’t even remember what induced me buy a discounted paperback copy of Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Perhaps it was included in my English class reading list and I got curious. Perhaps I read a mention of it in some essay or magazine article and I thought it would be worth buying. All I remember is that I was in first year high school, I was in a bookstore on my own, and I decided to use my week’s savings to buy the book. That hasty decision started my book collection.

There’s a certain rustic charm about this book which instantly attracted me. From the start, I felt drawn to the character of Jo March – the tomboyish, headstrong protagonist. I got interested in her three sisters as well – Meg (who reminded me of my own sister), Beth and Amy. I loved Marmee with all my heart, and had a crush on Jo’s best friend and next-door neighbor, Teddy Laurence.

I read the entire book in one sitting, and re-read it again the next day (and the day after that and so on). If I wasn’t re-reading Little Women, I would be reading Louisa May Alcott’s other books in our school library, such as Little Men, Jo’s Boys, Rose in Bloom, Under the Lilacs and Eight Cousins.

Little Women was not the first book I read, but it was the book that made me realize that reading was going to be my lifelong hobby. It opened my eyes to the fact that I’ll never be happier than when I’m curled up in bed with a good book. It made me understand that there are some books you just have to own, for the pleasure of re-reading it anytime you want.

When I think about it now, I can name two particular reasons why Little Women will always be one of my favorites.

For one, it is a coming-of-age story, and I was lucky enough to read it during the time that I was coming of age myself. I could feel Jo’s rebellion at the thought that she was expected to leave her boyish ways behind to become a “proper” lady. I could feel her discomfort and awkwardness throughout her teenage years. The book gave me hope that indeed, this embarrassing stage in life will pass, and that maybe I could even become a gracious little woman afterwards.

The other reason is that I could relate all too well with the character of Jo, especially with regards to her temper. When her sister almost died because of something she did in anger, a repentant Jo sobbed to her mother about not knowing how to control her fits of rage. Marmee comforted Jo – and me – when she explained that she had the same problem, and was angry nearly every day. The difference is that Marmee was always very careful not to show any signs of irritation. As she explained, “A startled or surprised look from one of you when I spoke sharply rebuked me more than any words could have done, and the love, respect, and confidence of my children was the sweetest reward I could receive for my efforts to be the woman I would have them copy.” She also explained that we must ask our Father in heaven to teach us to deal with our anger and to change our hearts. Reading Marmee’s words somehow made me feel as if a burden was lifted up from me, and I resolved to follow her advice.

Aside from being able to relate to Jo’s temper, I could also relate to her grief when Beth – her favorite sister, her personal “conscience” – died. You see, my own brother died two years before I read Little Women. Something stirred in me when I read one of Beth’s final conversations with Jo – “I never wanted to go away, and the hard part now is the leaving you all. I’m not afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you even in heaven.” It made me cry the first time I read it, and I used to avoid re-reading that particular part. Later on, I realized that I had to face my grief some time and let the story of Beth’s death wash away some of my sorrow for my own Kuya’s death.

That’s why Little Women will always have a special place in my bookshelf and in my heart. That’s why this book will forever hold a certain magic for me. It’s because through its heartwarming storyline, its relatable characters and its subtle moral lessons, Little Women is capable of drying my tears, and bearing my burdens.