It was Papa who had taught her how to read the words, but the Jew who had led her to discover the world behind them, behind the printed letters on the cement wall of the basement, behind the elegant letters in the pages of the books in Frau Hermann's library. It was the Jew who showed her how to use the words, to form them to do her bidding. To shape them into a vivid weather report, or a story to calm the people huddled in someone's basement during an air raid, or a diary that told the story of her life.
And to Liesel Meminger, the words were very important. From The Gravedigger's Handbook that symbolized losing a brother and gaining a father to The Standover Man which meant gaining a friend from a most unlikely source, words controlled Liesel's life. And she gladly let them control her.
That is, until she met the Jew.
He had come to them in the dead of night, with the memory of an accordion on his tongue and his hair like feathers. Max Vandenburg was his name, Jew was his story, the book was in his hand.
She'd asked him if it was good, a hushed question whispered hurriedly in the dead of night.
"It saved my life," was his response, and Liesel didn't doubt it.
Max was the one who taught Liesel the power of the words, but more importantly, her power over them. And just like that, all distinctions between them faded away. Not German, not Jew, but a girl and a man who were brought together by the words. Here was a man who taught her more about life than anyone else had. Not a Jew anymore, but Max. Her friend.
She understood why he held the keys to this magical world. His life was such a living hell that he'd turned to the one thing that remained constant, the one thing he had power over as his world spun out of orbit and the mother he'd left behind haunted his dreams.
You'd think having a Jew in your basement would show you the distinctions between German and Jew. But not to Liesel. Both had to eat Mama's soup, both had secrets, both were permanently hungry and dirty. No, what Max taught Liesel was not that they were different, but that they were the same.
And they were.
Because in the end, the words saved both of their lives.