Here's a true story from Roald Dahl's Memories with Food at Gipsy House, a book he wrote with his wife Liccy before he died in 1990.
"Not long ago we went over at the special request of a children's bookshop in Arnhem to sign books. Holland has lots of bookshops devoted to children, and the nice thing about them is that they are designed specifically for children, with small tables and chairs and low bookshelves, and they even have some rooms with very low ceilings that only children can enter. It's all splendid. Anyway, off we went to Arnhem and the signing started. The queue outside the small shop stretched like a long, curving anaconda all the way down the street and round the corner into the next block, and the street the bookshop was on became so packed with young people that the traffic had to be diverted.
Liccy, who endures such things with good-natured resignation, sat herself in a coffee-shop directly across from the action and sipped a good Dutch coffee and watched through the window. Suddenly she noticed that a mother and her small son were standing not in the queue but to one side of it, and the little boy was crying his eyes out and the mother was trying to comfort him. Liccy said to the waiter (who spoke English), 'Please go and ask what is the matter.'
The waiter went out and returned and said, 'The mother has to go to work and hasn't got the time to stand in the queue, so the little boy can't get a book and have it signed.'
Liccy said, 'Please go out again and ask the boy's name and which is his favorite book. Then tell them to wait a minute longer.' Once again the old waiter went out and returned and told Liccy the boy's name was Johan and the book he wanted was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Now Liccy moved fast. She crossed the street and pushed her way through the crush in the shop until she came to me signing away at the back. 'Quick,' she said, 'sign a copy of Charlie to Johan.' I did so and, unseen by the mother and the little boy, she carried it back through the crowd to the coffee-shop.
Once again she asked the old waiter to go out. 'Take this book,' she said, 'and give it to Johan and simply say to him, "Now and again in this world something magic happens."' Through the window of the coffee-shop she watched the lovely old waiter, who by now was thoroughly enjoying the whole thing. She saw him hold out the book with the flyleaf open showing the name and the message and the signature, and she saw his lips moving as he told about magic happening. Then she saw the look of absolute incredulity on the face of the small boy and the gasp from the mother, and the wonder on both their faces as they moved slowly away with the boy still holding the book open in front of him as though it was a holy thing."
Liccy, who endures such things with good-natured resignation, sat herself in a coffee-shop directly across from the action and sipped a good Dutch coffee and watched through the window. Suddenly she noticed that a mother and her small son were standing not in the queue but to one side of it, and the little boy was crying his eyes out and the mother was trying to comfort him. Liccy said to the waiter (who spoke English), 'Please go and ask what is the matter.'
The waiter went out and returned and said, 'The mother has to go to work and hasn't got the time to stand in the queue, so the little boy can't get a book and have it signed.'
Liccy said, 'Please go out again and ask the boy's name and which is his favorite book. Then tell them to wait a minute longer.' Once again the old waiter went out and returned and told Liccy the boy's name was Johan and the book he wanted was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Now Liccy moved fast. She crossed the street and pushed her way through the crush in the shop until she came to me signing away at the back. 'Quick,' she said, 'sign a copy of Charlie to Johan.' I did so and, unseen by the mother and the little boy, she carried it back through the crowd to the coffee-shop.
Once again she asked the old waiter to go out. 'Take this book,' she said, 'and give it to Johan and simply say to him, "Now and again in this world something magic happens."' Through the window of the coffee-shop she watched the lovely old waiter, who by now was thoroughly enjoying the whole thing. She saw him hold out the book with the flyleaf open showing the name and the message and the signature, and she saw his lips moving as he told about magic happening. Then she saw the look of absolute incredulity on the face of the small boy and the gasp from the mother, and the wonder on both their faces as they moved slowly away with the boy still holding the book open in front of him as though it was a holy thing."
