The local high school theatre class put on a little mini production of Anne of Green Gables last fall. I bought tickets for Blythe and me thinking it would be a great way to introduce her to my favorite story of all time.
We are sitting in the dark theatre when I mentioned that she was named after one of the characters in this story that I love so much. And then it started. It was just a short basic introduction to the story - as much as you can fit into one set in 60 mins of high school acting. Gilbert popped in and out. And then when he called Anne "carrots" and she cracked the slate over his head she yells, "Gilbert Blythe!" and my sweet little curly haired girl turned to me with a terrifying look... that's who I'm named after?!?! A terrible boy?!?!?
I tried to explain of course. And then made a point of watching together every single episode of Anne with an E on Netflix. That helped, Gilbert is redeemed. My Blythe has moved on. It's not her favorite story at all.
Whether or not it's at all the same I identify with Anne so much. There's this moment in the Netflix series when she cries out that she "doesn't belong" and I felt that so much as a kid. I wasn't a pale faced, red headed, skinny orphan but I was a thick, brown, curly haired girl who felt out of place. Reading and watching Anne turn into a beautiful, smart and competent adult always gave me hope.
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