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Elizabeth Avery

Elizabeth's essay quite literally moved a number of our staff members to tears. Her effortless ability to connect emotionally with her readers and speak from personal experience was instantly engaging and relatable. One can feel that childhood magic that she shared with her father, and how she has turned that spark into a lifelong love affair with the written word. All the best to you in your future Elizabeth; Chilliwack is a wonderful place because of shining young stars like you!

CAREER GOALS: Medicine or Psychiatry
EDUCATION PLANS: University of the Fraser Valley & UBC
STUDENT PROFILE: "A" Honours, Musical Theatre, PE Leadership, Peer Tutoring, 32 Hour Famine, Take Action Days, Church volunteerism.

I take after my dad in a lot of ways. We both have an affinity for popcorn, would take a steak (or any meat, for that matter) over a salad any day, and love to read. It was my dad that introduced me to the world of literature, at the tender age of four. It was the greatest gift he ever gave me. Me, my dad, and whatever book I had brought (at that age it was usually an easy reader) would sit together and slowly pick our way through, page by page. It was my dad that taught me the joys of reading, the thrill of discovering a new word, the excitement of letters. But he did more than that. He brought me to the gateways of discovery, to the precipices of new worlds, and to old friends I hated to leave.

There is something magical about books. The way they take you to places without you ever having to leave the comforts of your house. The way you meet and befriend people that don’t exist. The way they transcend time and space to bring you stories of good and evil. The way that they bring people together. My longest standing friendship (which so far has been nine years) began over a conversation about a book. Actually a lot of my friendships have stemmed from books. One of them started with a mention of Harry Potter, another with someone lending me City of Bones. Books have been a keystone in my life; they have spanned otherwise impossible bridges.

When I was young, long after I had started reading, mind you, my father used to read to me. The first novel he read to me was The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien. I used to love those times; hearing the magical world of hobbits, dwarves and elves come to life at the tip of my dad’s tongue. We progressed onto Lord of the Rings, and I would have dreams of running through the Mines of Moria, or battling with the Nasgul. The very first poem I learned off by heart was The Verse of the Ring.

Those book had a profound impact on me. They were my first real taste of literature, and they introduced me to a world I hadn’t dreamed of. From thereafter, a new door was opened; elves and dwarves became my constant literary companions. I lived in worlds of magic, in places where good struggled against evil. I fell in love with timeless characters, and always, always, preferred the book version to the movie version.

I am a better person because of books. Books opened the door to my next love, writing. After being swept up in so many stories, so many worlds, nothing appeals to me more than being able to send someone on a magical journey much like my own. The ability to make appealing words that are contaminated by every use is the ability to make good triumph over evil. It is the ability to make heroes rise and villains fall. It is the ability to make people fall in love, or fall in hate. It is the ability to create.

My dad passed away nine years ago. I won’t be able to read with him again. I won’t hear his voice breathe life into fantastical stories. I won’t tell him about the books I’m reading now, how much I like the main character, how this one part made me cry, or how the ending really surprised me. He won’t be able to share the gift he gave me with my children. But even though he isn’t here anymore, I can still find him, exactly the way I remember him; far over the misty mountains cold, through dungeons deep and caverns old.

Her thank you card was received shortly after the awards ceremony:

Thank you so much for your generous donation. It pleases me to no end that my words affected you so profoundly, because it means that there is hope for my dreams. I look forwrad to expanding my mind by adding to my personal library. Books have played a pivotal role in my life, and this award means more to me than can be stated here.

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Elizabeth Avery