I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice— not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest personI ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother'sdeath, but because he is the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany.
In the summer of 1953, two eleven-year-old boys— best friends— are playing in a Little League baseball game in Gravesend, New Hampshire. One of the boys hits a foul ball that kills theother boy's mother. The boy who hits the ball doesn't believe inaccidents; Owen Meany believes he is God's instrument. Whathappens to Owen, after that 1953 foul ball, is extraordinary.
