At 10 years old, Opal is a child in every sense of the word—her perspective and understanding of the world are limited, somewhat selfish, and based purely on what adults have told her. However, over the course of the novel, Opal begins to grow up as she comes to terms with the fact that life is far more nuanced than she originally thought. Through her own experience and through her friends’ stories, she learns that it’s possible for life to be heartbreakingly sad—but also that it’s always possible to find a silver lining or to focus on something beautiful. Similarly, Opal also discovers that it’s impossible to lead a life that is 100 percent happy. In short, as Opal begins to come of age, she discovers that happiness in the adult world is about balance: one must understand that neither happiness nor sorrow are absolute. Sorrow may color someone’s happiness, but there’s also always something positive to celebrate.
From the beginning, the way Opal speaks and behaves suggests that, on some level, she already understands that one cannot wallow in sadness and expect to live a full life. Opal’s father, the preacher, is still mourning that his wife, Mama, left him and young Opal seven years before the novel begins. In Mama’s absence, Opal thinks of her father as a turtle, hiding in his “turtle shell”—and in that shell, he focuses only on the work of being a preacher and dwelling on the sadness he feels. Because he spends so much time in his “turtle shell,” Opal’s father is mostly absent from her life. This is part of the reason she refers to him as “the preacher” to the reader (and in her mind), but calls him “Daddy” to his face—and his absence is the reason why she’s at the grocery store alone on the night that the dog Winn-Dixie comes into her life. The preacher’s way of living is a clear indicator that it’s unhealthy for a person to dwell on their sadness—and it also suggests that doing so has the potential to hurt others, like Opal, and damage their chances at happiness. Because the preacher never voices the truth to Opal—that Mama is gone and isn’t coming back—Opal fixates on the few things she knows about Mama and collects stories to share with her one day, which the novel overwhelmingly suggests hurts both the preacher and Opal. Rather than clinging to the past, it’s necessary to accept the truth of one’s current situation in order to find happiness.
Winn-Dixie’s arrival injects life, happiness, and purpose into Opal and the preacher’s life in a way that they hadn’t considered possible. The dog begins to bring the preacher out of his shell—and most importantly for Opal, he helps her make friends with people in Naomi. Those friends then offer some of the novel’s most important lessons in balance and the role that age and maturity play in achieving it. Miss Franny Block, the elderly librarian, tells Opal stories about her long-gone family members, the most important of which is her great-grandfather, Littmus W. Block. Littmus was 14 when the Civil War broke out, and he felt compelled to fight for the Confederate Army. He not only discovered through the course of his service that “war is hell,” but when the war ended, he discovered that his entire family died and that Union soldiers burned his home. The war itself taught Littmus the importance of not idealizing something—everything, especially war, has its downsides, even if it seemed good and righteous as it did to Littmus. Rather than wallow in his sadness, however, Littmus decided to look for the bright spots and opened a candy factory. The factory made a candy called Littmus Lozenges, which contained a secret ingredient: sadness. Though the candy tastes sweet, it also tastes somehow sad. And while adults and kids Opal’s age can eat the candy and appreciate the sadness in it, younger kids, like five-year-old Sweetie Pie Thomas, spit the candy out. This suggests that it takes a degree of maturity to understand the necessity of acknowledging sadness, even while engaging in something as enjoyable as eating candy.
Opal’s other friend, Gloria Dump, offers another angle: that while people may go through sad times, it’s possible (and necessary) to move on from them. However, she also suggests that it’s foolish to forget the lessons that those sad times doled out. Gloria is an elderly, nearly blind woman who’s an avid gardener and cultivates a genuine, loving friendship with Opal. However, she’s also a recovered alcoholic who keeps a “mistake tree”: a tree onto which she tied alcohol bottles to remind her of her past, how far she’s come, and what she learned during the dark time when she was drinking too much. The mistake tree and the Littmus Lozenges both help Opal and the preacher move through their grief and sadness over losing Mama. After the preacher finally admits that Mama isn’t coming back, Opal stands in front of the mistake tree and promises Mama that she won’t forget her, but that she’ll think about her less in the years to come—and moreover, Opal insists that her heart is full. In other words, by the end of the novel, Opal has let go of Mama enough to be able to focus on all the good things in her life, like Winn-Dixie and all of her new human friends. While Mama’s memory and its associated sadness will always be a part of Opal’s life, the novel shows that it’s possible to choose to focus on the bright spots. Only by doing this can people, grow, change, and become better, more mature people.
Sadness, Happiness, and Growing Up ThemeTracker
Sadness, Happiness, and Growing Up Quotes in Because of Winn-Dixie
I went right back to my room and wrote down all ten things that the preacher had told me. I wrote them down just the way he said them to me so that I wouldn’t forget them, and then I read them out loud to Winn-Dixie until I had them memorized. I wanted to know those ten things inside and out. That way, if my mama ever came back, I could recognize her, and I would be able to grab her and hold on to her tight and not let her get away from me again.
She sighed again. She looked sad and old and wrinkled. It was the same way I felt sometimes, being friendless in a new town and not having a mama to comfort me. I sighed, too.
All of a sudden, I felt happy. I had a dog. I had a job. I had Miss Franny Block for a friend. And I had my first invitation to a party in Naomi. It didn’t matter that it came from a five-year-old and the party wasn’t until September. I didn’t feel so lonely anymore.
All of a sudden it was hard for me to talk. I loved the preacher so much. I loved him because he loved Winn-Dixie. I loved him because he was going to forgive Winn-Dixie for being afraid. But most of all, I loved him for putting his arm around Winn-Dixie like that, like he was already trying to keep him safe.
I waved at the woman on the porch and she waved back, and I watched Sweetie Pie run off to tell her mama about Otis being a magic man. It made me think about my mama and how I wanted to tell her the story about Otis charming all the animals. I was collecting stories for her.
“Why are all those bottles on it?”
“To keep the ghosts away,” Gloria said.
“What ghosts?”
“The ghosts of all the things I done wrong.”
I looked at all the bottles on the tree. “You did that many things wrong?” I asked her.
“Mmmm-hmmm,” said Gloria. “More than that.”
“But you’re the nicest person I know,” I told her.
“Doesn’t mean I haven’t done bad things,” she said.
I stayed where I was and studied the tree. I wondered if my mama, wherever she was, had a tree full of bottles; and I wondered if I was a ghost to her, the same way she sometimes seemed like a ghost to me.
And I got real good at holding on to Winn-Dixie whenever they came. I held on to him and comforted him and whispered to him and rocked him, just the same way he tried to comfort Miss Franny when she had her fits. Only I held on to Winn-Dixie for another reason, too. I held on to him tight so he wouldn’t run away.
“And the army took him, and Littmus went off to war, just like that. Left behind his mother and three sisters. He went off to be a hero. But he soon found out the truth.” Miss Franny closed her eyes and shook her head.
“What truth?” I asked her.
“Why, that war is hell,” Miss Franny said with her eyes still closed. “Pure hell.”
I ate my Littmus Lozenge slow. It tasted good. It tasted like root beer and strawberry and something else I didn’t have a name for, something that made me feel kind of sad. I looked over at Amanda. She was sucking on her candy and thinking hard.
“Do you like it?” Miss Franny asked me.
“Yes ma’am,” I told her.
“What about you, Amanda? Do you like the Littmus Lozenge?”
“Yes ma’am,” she said. “But it makes me think of things I feel sad about.”
I didn’t go to sleep right away. I lay there and thought how life was like a Littmus Lozenge, how the sweet and the sad were all mixed up together and how hard it was to separate them out. It was confusing.
I got up out of bed and unwrapped a Littmus Lozenge and sucked on it hard and thought about my mama leaving me. That was a melancholy feeling. And then I thought about Amanda and Carson. And that made me feel melancholy, too. Poor Amanda. And poor Carson. He was the same age as Sweetie Pie. But he would never get to have his sixth birthday party.
“But do you know what? I just realized something, India Opal. When I told you your mama took everything with her, I forgot one thing, one very important thing that she left behind.”
“What?” I asked.
“You,” he said. “Thank God your mama left me you.” And he hugged me tighter.
“Well,” said Gloria Dump. “We didn’t do nothin’. We just sat here and waited and sang some songs. We all got to be good friends. Now. The punch ain’t nothin’ but water and the egg-salad sandwiches got tore up by the rain. You got to eat them with a spoon if you want egg salad. But we got pickles to eat. And Littmus Lozenges. And we still got a party going on.”
“Mama,” I said, just like she was standing right beside me, “I know ten things about you, and that’s not enough, that’s not near enough. But Daddy is going to tell me more; I know he will, now that he knows you’re not coming back. He misses you and I miss you, but my heart doesn’t feel empty anymore. It’s full all the way up. I’ll still think about you, I promise. But probably not as much as I did this summer.”