Inside the cover, my father’s 2nd grade classmates wrote their names.
I don’t know who they are.
But I think they helped shape the man I never got to meet.
 
This book feels different. Not just because it’s old, but because it’s loved. Matilda, with Quentin Blake’s wild illustrations, is a classic. But this edition — Penguin Group hardcover, 1990s — is my father's copy. Given to him when he left Cleveland. Signed by every kid in his 2nd grade class. It wasn’t just a farewell gift. It was a doorway.
 
He labeled it Artifact 0005. His note inside reads:
“This book taught me that reading is rebellion. And curiosity is power.”
 
I didn’t understand what that meant. Until now.
 
In a future where stories are generated on demand and curiosity is rationed, Matilda reminded me: books were once the first revolution. This copy isn’t for sale. It’s part of my inheritance — and a spark I carry forward.
 
Includes:
Class signatures from the mid 1990s
Post-it from my father
 
This is the book that made my father question everything.