User blog comment:JoePlay/Wizarding World Giveaway/@comment-4144109-20110713203658

As much as I wanted to be a Harry Potter "fanatic" like my classmates in school I could not be one. I could not have multiple toys, posters, costumes and other collectables like other fans. Growing up my family didn't have alot of money. Both my parents were, and still are unemployed due to my father's cancer and my mom having to take care of him. They were both stressed and angry all the time and I felt like I never really had a family. That was when I found Harry Potter. I was almost the same age as Harry in the Sorcerer's Stone and hearing his story I felt a kinship with him. We were the black sheep, the ones with the short end of the stick. But then he started this magical adventure, going places and doing things I could never do. He helped me escape into a world where it was our choices, far more than our abilities that showed who we really were. As the books progressed, I literally grew up with Harry. We faced challenges together and mourned together. I felt his pain when Sirius died, like I had felt when a mentor of mine passed away. By the time the final book came out, I found myself crying even before I read the book. It was like losing a childhood friend. The next morning as I read the epilogue, sleep deprived and teary eyed I realized something. I wasn't losing a friend, Harry would always be alive through us, the fans. We smile when we think back to all the good times we had with them throughout the whole series. And now, 7 years later as I look back, I realize how Harry Potter truly helped me. He gave me strength, hope, laughter, tears and most importantly, he gave me life again.