The Book Thief My Favorite Chapter: The Joy of Cigarettes

 The Joy of Cigarettes

Exchanging books with Cigarettes:

Lisel's foster papa, Hans Hubermann, is the one who steps into Lisel's heart and caress her pain of the loss of dear brother and mother. When arriving Hubermann's household, Lisel resembles a bird losing her wings that fly her to the sky and holds no beliefs to anyone. Hans bends his back, stretch his head into the car, and reaches hand to the dazed girl with eyes covered with sorrows. Hans treats Lisel in a way that all the fathers do to their daughters, even better. To make Lisel talk, Hans talks about the book when finding her holding it in hands on the bed. It is a book belonging to her brother. Naturally, Hans reads the book to Lisel and teachers her the meanings of every words she doesn't comprehend. Sitting by her bed, he reads from chapter to chapter in a voice fatigue, desire to sleep, but never tiredness. Sometimes, Hans can't resist the heaviness of eyelids and falls into dream beside Lisel's bed. Lisel will wake him up with excitement to know the following story. Then Hans will take in a deep breath to refresh his mind, opens up his eyes and read "Chapter Twelve, Respecting the Graveyard." By the end of the night, he stretches his back and invites his highness to the breakfast. 

The last passage of that book goes like this:

We at the Bayern Cemetery Association hope that we have informed and entertained you in workings, safety measures, and duties of grave digging. We wish you every success with your career in the funerary arts and hope this book has helped in some way. 

(I will fall asleep in the very beginning of it if I were Lisel. It is amazing of her to be awake the whole night and focus on story-telling huh?)

On first Christmas Lisel has with Hubermann's family, she doesn't expect to get gifts from foster parents, clearly knowing that she is lucky enough if she has good food on Christmas' Eve with bad financial condition of the family. To her surprise, she finds a newspaper-wrapped present in the bright snowing morning. Book small books are in there. She hugged both of her foster parents in joy and thrills. Another morning, she pops out the questions bothering her for long when all are eating soup. "I just wanted to know how you found the money to buy my books." she asked. Then Hans took out the tabacco ration to roll a cigarette. "Are going to tell me or not?" she asked impatiently. Hans laughs and tells her that he is telling her. He makes cigarettes to exchanges books. Eight cigarettes for one book. It sounds strange right? People take education through the help of thing we are told not to touch. Except for books, he exchanges some dresses that Rosa in desperate needs and sometimes eggs. There is no denying that cigarettes bring them joy.

Questions:

Who was the first person teaching you to read and write?

Who accompanied you through out the night with sleepy face?

Who always thought of what you needed and wanted?

My answer to all questions above is my grandpa who left me 9 years ago. He was a wise old gentleman with strong body figure and passion for game-playing. There was nothing that I didn't count on him. By the time night forcing people to go to bed, I couldn't get in my dream so often with insecure of being lost in there or meeting human-eating monsters. Whenever that happened to me, he hugged me into his arms that could protect me from every harm, telling me stories of him being carpenter, fighting with gangsters, being haunted by the ghosts and et. It was so mean of him telling me a frightening story during bedtime, but I was never frighten because he always ended the stories by telling me how he kills those ghosts and monsters so bravely. 

As my grandpa, He rarely turned my requirements down, almost never. Candies, pinky bags, princess dresses and gigantic dolls, would all appear on my birthday, piped up like a mountain. Despite his few salary from being a school guard, he tried his best to satisfy a willful and difficult girl. However, I was spoiled because he taught me to be granted when I became a third grader by taking me to do some volunteering works. Instead of telling me how lucky I was to have those sources, he showed me people with almost nothing. in the process of helping others, I gained tremendous feedback from the people I helped and acknowledged that I should cherish what I had. Like what I said, he was a wise man, just like Hans to Lisel. 

You must have people like my grandfather to me:) And I would like to know~~~You comment below and share your story with me.