“Maycomb was an old town, but it was a tired old town when I first knew it. In rainy weather the streets turned to red slop; grass grew on sidewalks, the courthouse sagged in the square. Somehow, it was hotter then: a black dog suffered on a summer’s day; bony mules hitched to Hoover carts flicked flies in the sweltering shade of the live oaks on the square. Men’s stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon, after their three-o’clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum.”

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Scout Finch, To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee Sometimes the very best comfort comes from our old friends. And likewise, old friends come in different shapes, sizes and forms. In this case, the old friend I’ve turned to is embodied by the immortal words of Ms. Harper Lee in her, To Kill a Mockingbird. It’s a novel I read for the first time in grade school after which I was never the same. Her words have shaped my own and continue to do so each time I trace their shape across the page, finding within their familiar lines, new lessons and old loves.