Give me a moment, I just need to spill out a mess of near-unintelligible emotions I have about this.
Probably one of the most amazing — and amusing — things about J. K. Rowling is that she has remained so incredibly humble, that she’s still so amazed by how successful she is. Look at her, she’s standing there expressing her earnest gratitude and thanks to a crowd of people who would gladly circumnavigate the earth just for the opportunity to personally thank her for everything she has done, whether those things were intended or not.
Because there really have been a lot of unexpected effects of her series, and some of them have improved lives, even saved them. The Harry Potter books have connected so many people, whether from near-immeasurable distances or so closely that their very existences have become intertwined.
There is so much respect and admiration in this bond we all share, and throughout our little magical community. We’re linked by a tacit but almost tangible sense of family and belonging. By caring about the same stories and people, real or fictional, we have found a place to belong. And, frankly, it’s probably about the closest thing I’ve experienced to a miracle.