Heartache and Healing Words: How Reading Taught Me to Grieve

Emma Solis with her grandfather Miguel Solis, 2008


It’s Christmastime, and I am in third grade. From my point of view, approximately four feet off the ground, I can see something tucked inside the squat, brown cubby bearing my name in shaky cursive lettering. I reach into the cubby and pull out the mystery gift left behind for me. It’s a paperback book, thicker than any I’ve read before, and far more grown-up-looking, too, with its painterly cover art showing a delicate hand touching a heart. A sticky note in the corner states, “To Emma—From your Secret Santa.”

 I look up and then down the humming, fluorescent-lit hallway, lined with student artwork and classroom doors. Kids and grownups crisscross the tiles, oblivious to my wonder. I expect to see my Secret Santa somewhere—a figure standing still amongst the chaos, looking right at me with a knowing twinkle in their eyes. But no such person appears.

Even with the plain evidence of the sticky note, I remain skeptical that the present was meant for me. Maybe it was meant for another of the four Emmas in my class. Those other Emmas sit quietly in class and read during recess. I’m the Emma who annoys our teacher daily by repeating “SpongeBob” lines during lessons. I can’t imagine that anyone would really expect me to read this serious book entitled Searching for David’s Heart: A Christmas Story, written by Cherie Bennett.

My curiosity gets the best of me. I glance at the first few pages and discover that it’s a novel about a girl who goes looking for the recipient of her older brother’s heart after he dies young in a car accident. I read a few more pages. And more. My own heart starts to ache, but I keep reading. I devour the book. About ¾ of the way through, my eyes fill with tears.

A few months before I received this book, my grandpa Miguel Solis died suddenly in a car accident while on vacation in Colorado. I cried with my family when we found out. But after that initial shared eruption of feeling, I felt lost without a guide, illiterate in the language of my new emotions. Rather than working through my grief, it was much easier to return to my normal ways, hellbent on remaining the obnoxious, happy kid I was before my grandfather’s death. I kept goofing around with my friends and would reply, “Great!” with a quizzical look on my face when teachers asked how I was doing. I didn’t talk about my grandpa. I didn’t draw or write about my feelings around his death. I didn’t know how to.

Reading Searching for David’s Heart changes this—it changes me. I start to understand how someone might put big, heavy feelings into words. And those words on the page draw out the feelings I’ve kept so tightly wound up and tucked away. By the time I get to the last page, I’m aware of a shift in myself. I feel like a different person—a fuller person, and a reader. That experience puts me onto books for the rest of my life.

“words on the page draw out the feelings I’ve kept so tightly wound up and tucked away.”

Today, this transformative reading memory connects me to my grandpa, whom I never got to know very well before he died. My family keeps his memory alive by telling stories about him, in which I recognize aspects of myself, my dad, and my siblings. I see the ways that his life helped form mine. There’s comfort in this recognition, and amazement, too, at the effects a person can have on another, even indirectly.

When I reflect on these Christmastime events from my third-grade year now, the most absurd aspect to me is that I still don’t know for certain who my “Secret Santa” was. I have no idea who helped push me out of my comfort zone to confront my grief and become a more rounded, mature person, a person who loves reading and is aware of its incredible power. I don’t know if they remember giving it to me, or if they had a clue as to how significant a gift it would be.

Sharing books and stories is one of the greatest ways people can influence each other, perhaps especially in childhood. I hope those who read my story here will be inspired to recall books you read and to think about how they impacted you. Start here: What is a favorite book from your childhood? Who gave it to you, or how did you find it? How did it change you?


Although it sadly seems that Searching for David’s Heart is now out of print, there are countless other books that have left an indelible mark on my heart. In order to share some such titles with friends of Modern Memoirs, I am working with my colleagues here to create lists of the books that have made the greatest impact on our lives. Our first such list is entitled “Model Memoirs: Favorites of the Modern Memoirs Staff.” You can buy any of the books listed there at our Bookshop.org affiliate link, and your purchases will support our business and independent bookstores nationwide.

Over time, we will continue creating lists of engaging books we love to help guide and inspire your reading and writing lives, and we would love to hear from you about how reading them changes you.