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Back The Year the Maps Changed Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Map
  6. Prologue
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. Acknowledgments
  74. About the Author
  75. About the Publisher

“People lie, which is why geography is such an interesting study of them, of us.” He brought his hands together and threaded his fingers through each other. “But no, I don’t think the world is a lie, Winifred. . . . It’s just our perspective of it that could use some work. Do you know what that means—perspective?”

I shrugged.

“It’s everything we did in geography—it’s the art of representing three-dimensional objects on a two-dimensional surface, so as to give the right impression of their height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other. . . .”

“So, mapping?”

He nodded. “It’s that, but it also means your unique point of view; the way you see things. Most people, their point of view is very narrow. It’s either what’s right in front of them, or else only what they want to see, regardless of the facts.

“And what I think is very important, and truly rare, is to try to gain a different point of view . . . a little more perspective of the world, which usually entails stepping out from your little corner of it and seeing through someone else’s eyes.”

With that, Mr. Khouri unlaced his hands and reached over to tap the atlas. “Page two hundred and fifty-three,” he said, and I opened to that.

Tucked in the middle of the Oceania maps was a photo.

Except it wasn’t printed in blurry black ink like some I’d cut out of the newspaper. This was an original photo, one that a journalist friend of Mr. Khouri’s had taken, when they’d come over to Pop’s apartment before the police arrived.

It was in full color: Nora and her baby Rose, sitting up in Pop’s bed and with Nora staring right into the camera with her pleading eyes, black hair all a mess.

“Nora gave you that—a little more perspective—and you shouldn’t underestimate how valuable it is.” Mr. Khouri slowly stood up, raised his hand against the sun, and kept talking to me. “It’s like everything has been redrawn, and you see the world as it actually is. Hold on to that, Winifred—hold on to them—and I will too.”

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66

Back to the Top

An article with the photo of Nora and Rose ran in the local paper . . . and then in the national ones too. The headline read, “Let Them Stay.”

The whole piece still gives me chills, but the last little bit was the best part—and I’d practically memorized it: