I don’t recall much happening in the small town in NZ where I grew up, but I do remember the day that Margaret Mahy visited my primary school. I have no idea how old I was but I do have a vivid memory of sitting very quietly in our small library, absolutely enthralled, while a woman with a rainbow coloured wig, a brightly coloured cardigan and some sort of toy bird (it was either in the wig or perched on her shoulder) read one of her books to us.
Thank you, Margaret Mahy
By Hayley Holland


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