User blog comment:JoePlay/Wizarding World Giveaway/@comment-4197507-20110725004029

What does Harry mean to me? For me, Harry was an escape from the real world. He came to me at the end of first grade; a time I was struggling with the divorce of my parents and leaving San Francisco. A time when I felt different and unappreciated and alone. I had no one here and felt constantly ostracised at school for looking, sounding, and acting different. Harry WAS me. I WAS Harry.

My Mother bought me Philosopher's Stone as an end of the year present. She probably found him on some international lit list and thought I may find it an escape. Little did she know she was giving me the largest piece of my cultural childhood. I devoured the book on that hot June day; I took it with me to the park, to dinner, and to ice cream. I read it over and over and over again until Chamber of Secrets came out.

Harry was a part of me. He was something special and unusual; like me. Until he took over the world; he was mine, a little gem that made me a little ahead of the curve. He gave me a way to relate to people; a conversation starter I use to this day as a manager at a coffee place. I met friends through Harry; did well in school because of Harry; and learned to relate to people because of Harry.

Most of all, Harry was what invested me in reading, something I will take with me for the rest of my life. He taught me lessons; not just about history, but about people, love, loss, and life in general. This is what Harry means to me.