Malala Yousafzai,

My name is Danielle. I’m sixteen years old, and a junior in high school. We’re just about the same age, but I understand that we have led very different lives since 1997. Over the summer, I read your book I am Malala for my English class summer reading. For everyone else, summer reading was a chore, but I found myself spending hours reading your book, in awe of the struggles you have had to go through in your seventeen years. In your times of need, especially in times of fear of the Taliban, you would pray, always faithful that God was on your side, and that through anything, even death, God would take care of you. I’m a Roman Catholic, and I recently made my confirmation, which means I promised before the church and God, as an adult, to be a practicing Catholic and a woman of God for the rest of my life. Whenever I’ve had something go wrong in my life, I always would ask God for help, and usually I would find He did. However, I never knew the true power of faith until I read about you. When people threatened to murder your way of life, your family, to murder you, Malala, you held your head up high. Even after you were shot for standing up for your beliefs, you were only thankful to the almighty: “I’m still me, Malala. The important thing is God has given me my life.” (I am Malala). This may sound silly, especially with all of the perilous trials that you have overcome in your own lifetime, but 2014 for me was both the best and worst year of my life. I understand I’m just an American teenager with everyday problems, but if your book taught me anything, it’s to never underestimate someone else’s pain. In January of 2014, I started going out with a boy in my school. As the months sped by, I learned that I was falling in love with the most wonderful person in the world. We had a carefree summer together, one that you read about in silly Nicholas Sparks novels. But in August, he went to college five states away. We promised to stay together, which almost made missing him even more of a struggle. Even though I’m sure my pain isn’t even of the same species as any of yours has been, August 14, 2014 was the worst day of my life. However, it was also the same time that I was reading your book. Every night that I cried myself to sleep, I would remember the way that you prayed to God to help you get through your toughest times. Slowly but surely, I learned how to go about my everyday routine without him. My faith in God is what makes me smile everyday, along with my mom. Like your relationship with your father is described in I am Malala, my mom is the person that puts my broken pieces back together. She’s the reason I have to be strong. I can’t tell you how many times my mother has sat holding me, a petite puddle, once again crying in her arms. But you taught me that I can get through anything. Among all of your incredible traits, most of all I honor you for your strength. You are a role model to me, and to anyone in need of strength to carry on through their everyday lives. I know that in my life I will face trials more miniscule, and I know I can come out victorious, because you taught me how. Like the other infamous Malala mentioned in your book, you have an army of followers behind you. You will lead us all into a better day, full of strong individuals that can face any obstacle that comes our way. I am on your side, Malala. In a way I guess, all of your followers and I are like you. I am Malala.

Thank you for your time and for your sacrifice to humankind.

Sincerly,

Danielle