Do you know this mouse?
This little sculpture of Despereaux was given to me a long time ago.
I was doing a signing at Book Passage in San Francisco and a young girl came through the line and presented the mouse to me.
She had made him as a project for art class, and wanted to give him to me.
“I couldn’t,” I said. “He’s too perfect. You have to keep him.”
“No,” she said. “I want you to have him.”
“But how will I get him home safely? What if he gets broken in my luggage?”
“He’ll be fine,” she said. “He’s yours.”
This was maybe 15 years ago.
That child would be grown now.
I want her to know that her little mouse is safe with me—that every time I look at him, he gives me courage, fills me with wonder.
And I want her to know that she was right—the mouse is fine.
He is more than fine.
He is perfect.

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