Out of My Heart

“The firefly hovered over the back of my hand, then landed—slowly, effortlessly, I could feel its delicate touch.”

The firefly that lands on Melody’s hand in the opening chapter suggests the symbolic connection that the novel will develop. The fireflies, which Melody’s sister traps in a jar, represent the need for Melody to be free, to fly free of all the limitations she feels. Noah’s nickname for Melody, Miss Firefly, also illustrates this symbolism.

“Well, even though my brain blazes, the rest of my body works like a piece of taffy that’s been left out in the sun for too long. No somersaults for me, unless I accidentally fall out of my wheelchair.”

Melody wants to make clear, as she does here and in other passages, that she is a normal kid with a disability. That’s it. Yes, she cannot entirely control her body—but her intellect is sharp, her creativity unique, and her outlook joyful and optimistic.

“Well, then, we better set them free...”

Penny sets free the lightning bugs she has captured in her jar, foreshadowing her sister’s evolution into the freedom to be who she is. Like the fireflies, Melody compares her experiences at Green Glades to the sheer freedom of flying. It is time, Mrs. V suggests symbolically, for Melody to be free.

“Is the applicant smarter and lovelier than any other twelve-year-old in the universe? Absolutely yes.”

Given that the character of Melody’s mother is informed by the author Sharon M. Draper herself, who has raised a child with cerebral palsy, this scene is poignant. Melody’s mother’s love and their foundational relationship is highlighted as the two fill out the lengthy camp application.

“I want to go. Pleeeeeeeeeeease?!”

When a sudden opening at camp gives Melody the opportunity to spend the week at Green Glades, Melody makes clear that she is ready to test her wings and see what she can do on her own. As her parents discuss the pros and cons of the camp opportunity, Melody affirms her wish to go, seven times. She repeats her wish multiple times and shows through typing on Elvira how important this opportunity is for her.

“I hope you meet lots of new people. And if you want, when camp is over, you can give one of these [friendship bracelets] to a friend or counselor to remember you by. But you know the best memories will be in your heart.”

Mrs. V functions not only as Melody’s primary caregiver when both her parents are working, but more like Melody’s mentor. Her parting gift before Melody leaves for Green Glades is the selection of colorful hand-woven friendship bracelets. Mrs. V knows intuitively that Melody does not to swim or ride a horse—camp will give her what she most needs: a circle of friends.

“I had no business being out here on my own in a forest!”

Melody admits to herself as her parents drive her to camp, that the experience is going to be scary. As she watches mile after mile of deep forest move past her car window, she experiences a series of second-guesses. Part of her triumph during the week will be her resilient inner voice that psyches her up to never give up.

“But, then, from the silence, a bird, redder than red—a cardinal, I think—landed on a branch right beside me. One solitary bird trilled a solo, so clear, so sure of itself. It seemed to sing just for me.”

Open to the unexpected beauty of her world and ever the artist alert to the surprise of colors, Melody decides at the very moment when she must say goodbye to her family that the camp will be good for her. In the cardinal’s song, Melody feels that nature itself welcomes her.

“[O]nce you feel the magic and power of a horse, you’ll never be the same.”

With the help of her mentor Trinity, Melody embraces every experience at camp she fears. She is most terrified of the idea of how she could ever muster the courage to get up on such a huge and forbidding animal like a horse, illustrating her character development as she faces her fears.

“What about it, people, let’s get together and feel all right.”

The lyrics of the Bob Marley song “One Love,” which Melody plays as each of her cabinmates arrives on the first day, reflect what will come to be a theme of the week. The camp brings together kids with divergent disabilities and together they come to tap into the positivity and strength of genuine friendship.

“[S]lowly, smoothly, we kept rolling, despite the fact that this skinny little thing was gonna break into a million pieces, and I would plunge to my death in seconds. I wanted to scream so bad, but I forced myself to hold it in.”

As part of her evolution into self-confidence, Melody confronts her paranoia over the camp equipment designed to help make experiences safe and fun for the campers as she enters the pool in a swim chair. She is certain the chair will not hold up, but she is willing to control her fears and finds out that she loves the feeling of being in the pool, the feeling of weightlessness, and of being free of her body.

“There are zillions of paintings of pale European ladies, who, frankly, looked to me like they were bored out of their minds. I felt sorry for them—all dressed up in really uncomfortable-looking high-necked dresses, sipping tea or gazing out a window. What I really like is the modern art wing.”

In her love of music, color, and the library, Melody suggests she might become an artist. She explains her love of rich, bold colors colliding with each other that she makes as her art class project. She remembers being dazzled by the contemporary non-representational abstract art that she and her Dad found in the Cincinnati Art Museum.

“I was an eagle, a hummingbird, a creature of feathers and air. I got it now—why birds soar and swoop and float on the air. This was pure joy!”

Flying becomes the book’s symbol for Melody finding her freedom and individuality. While running the zipline, she soars above the treetops as the world of the camp blurs. She feels the liberating joy of speed and motion.

“[T]his lake never stopped moving. It was like blue power! And here I was, Melody Scared-of-the-Water Brooks, floating on it—well, part of it.”

Once again, Melody conquers a fear. Out on the pontoon crossing Lake Lilliana, Melody feels her entire world moving. The raw and elegant energy inspires her—she thinks, characteristically, in colors and taps into an unexpected surge of power, a moment that anticipates her later confession that sometimes she feels like a house where the power has gone out.

“And all of a sudden I felt like crying. Because…well, that was me—so much on the inside that still could not get to the outside. Energy trapped. […] But I still had power.”

On the boat when Noah comes over to talk, Melody is overwhelmed by her frustration and inability to communicate and share all the ideas she wants to share with Noah, who she thinks is cute. However, she immediately tells herself that she does have the power to communicate: She has Elvira, she has her own system of signing, and she has her facial expressions.

“‘You want to get closer to the fire?’ I tapped, ‘Yes.’”

This moment most defines Melody’s week at camp. On the second night, she agrees to let Trinity wheel her closer to the blazing campfire, joining the circle of these new friends. For the first time in her life, Melody feels as if she belongs.

“As I touched the snake, it still didn’t move, and neither did my hand! It felt like cool, smooth leather on my fingertips. Look at me! Getting all cozy with snakes.”

The experiences at camp continue to expose Melody to new feelings that challenge assumptions she had. Just as when she, with the other campers, stumbles upon a skunk out in the woods and Melody sees something gentle in the eyes of the wild animal, here, she finds that the snake they find in their cabin is actually a sensory experience, and that the snake represents the changes she’s recognizing within herself.

“Which made it even more of a surprise when Noah, bopping on his walker, headed over to where I sat and plopped down—right in the folding chair next to me. Acting like this was the most ordinary thing in the world.”

Melody’s relationship with Noah represents her rapid coming-of-age experience in the novel. Their friendship feels different to Melody. When they talk about their experiences with others, Melody feels an attraction she cannot explain. This moment at the fire pit illustrates Melody’s feelings for Noah.

“We’re almost teenagers!”

When the cabinmates are caught sneaking out and having some time away from the hovering, but loving, counselors, Melody and her friends reveal how they are transitioning to adulthood. Although they violated camp rules, the four found in their escapade a new level of friendship and a new sense of trust with each other. Like their relationships with each other, they want to be trusted to make decisions on their own, and to feel as if they have a say in their life.

“Melody, you are a kicking machine! Just get out there and do you.”

The inner voice that Melody hears whenever she needs encouragement measures her growing independence. She knows her limitations and exactly how it feels to rely on others. As she is about to take the field for Balloon Ball, where she is to get a balloon down the field any way she can, she remembers what her father’s encouraging words and her legs become her greatest asset.

“I think the difference was me. I was sitting around chilling with my friends—yep, my friends. How cool was that?”

In an epiphany, Melody realizes as her week at camp winds down that she has changed. She is no longer lonely. She has friends, they like her, and they gravitate to her. That means more to her as she heads home than any of the other camp experiences.

“‘I’d give anything for people to see me first, not my chair, and do more stuff on my own, like hanging out with my best friend…if I had one.’ He looked up at the star-speckled sky. Then he said, ‘Well, you’ve got one now!’”

That Noah quickly assures her that she has a best friend reveals how Melody has come to realize her fondest hopes during her week at Green Glades. The challenge now is to return to her home and try to bond with others who see her disability before they see her as a person.

“I couldn’t get a strong enough grip to pull harder. I tried again. I pulled. Then I felt it—Jolie, almost imperceptibly, slowing down.”

The narrative uses a dramatic pause as Melody realizes, to her amazement, that the horse is now following her directions. She doubts herself and then finds a reserve of strength and courage she did not know she had—and Jolie responds.

“She pressed the bottle into my hand, and shakily, shakily, I squeezed. Just me. All by myself. One drop. One more drop, and then another and another fell on the paper. […] I had done it all by myself.”

As Melody completes her final art project, she does so on her own. Earlier she struggled with the paint tubes, unable to muster enough strength without Trinity’s help. Now, she squeezes the bottle on her own. The orange paint she puts on her project against its heavy backdrop of blues and purple represents the hope and joy she has found in her new friends.