books, books, and more books
I spent a good part of my weekend surrounded by some very dear friends, for that is what I consider the books in my humble library. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will have to leave many of my beloved books behind when I move. It would be impractical for me to attempt to bring even half of them. I’ve been thinning out my other possessions, but I can’t bring myself to permanently part with my precious paperbacks. So some will make the journey with me, some will be placed in temporary homes, and the rest will be put in storage until I am able to reclaim them.
Thus I found myself sitting amid stacks and stacks of books, entering each one into a spreadsheet to keep track of where it ends up. I have a varied collection of reading material: classic literature, poetry, biographies, fiction, historical non-fiction, lives of the saints, theology, etc. I thumbed through my favorites, those faithful companions of my past which were read and re-read. As I opened the familiar covers, the words, ideas and stories that shaped my young mind were released into the air along with the lovely fragrance of yellowed pages.
I invested a lot in my books, and they in turn have taken me on wild adventures to foreign lands and times past. I can’t say goodbye forever to my old friends! The hours I spent with them this weekend was proof of that. My personal library is important to me. I know it will never be as grand a library as the one in Beauty and the Beast, but someday I will once more be surrounded by shelves full of my favorite friends.