Meeting my family
I cannot recall exactly when I discovered the magic of books. I do know that no matter how poor we were there were always some books in our house. Usually, in addition to school books, there was a paperback or a magazine such as Popular Mechanics which my father was reading. It was not until much later in life that I discovered my mother also liked to read. As a child it did not occur to me that my mother was much too busy to read. Taking care of five children and a husband without the luxury of electricity, running water, or much money left little time for reading or other pleasures.
Compared to our house, my paternal grandmother’s house had an extensive library. Although there many farm chores which had to be done each day there was always time for music, writing, and reading.
I think I must have been in the second or third grade when I discovered that an entire world of people, places, and ideas awaited my discovery via books. I now suspect that in the small, regional, country school I attended there were not that many books. I do know that there were western novels and a few by authors such as Dostoyevsky. Often I would delay reading the last few pages of a book just so I did not have to experience the profound sense of loss of my new or old friends.
As a child on the farm I could be found or, more accurately not found, by my mother who needed me do chores, in the intersection of branches in one of the large oak or walnut trees.
It was through the magic of books that I discovered other places, ideas, and a wide assortment of people. Although I recall doing well in school, I do not recall getting excited about school books. I now know, of course, that many of them contained the same limited world I experienced with most of my classmates.
In the little, regional, country school I attended there were some wise teachers such as our fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Shepherd. I distinctly remember her saying to the class, “I want you to read. I do not care what you read. I know you boys read those ‘dirty little books.’ That is fine. As long as you read anything, you will learn to enjoy reading. Reading will open the entire world to you.” I, and I am sure the other boys and girls, were shocked that the asexual Mrs. Shepherd (Yuk!) knew about sex and those little books. Only later did I appreciate how wise she was.
My love affair with the magic of books continued to deepen throughout my life. Mr. Twain, Mr. Shakespeare, Ms. Maya Angelou, Ms. Giovanni, Dr. Miller, Mr. Yeats, Mr. Einstein, and many others happily visited with each other on my bookshelves while I am renewed my acquaintance with Mr. Rosenfelft, Ms.Emily Dickinson, Dr. Kaufman, Dr. Russell, Mr. Kant, got acquainted with a new physicist friend, or sat down with a new book by Eckhart Tolle, or …
Today, in addition to the physical building of the public library, I can spend hours with Mr. Goggle or invite Ms. Amazon to magically one-click me an instant visit on my Kindle. Friends also await my visits via Facebook messenger, email, or a blog. I still get excited as I did as a child when I experience the magic of being transported to the virtual salons of the world.
Words 594
Written January 20, 2016
I cannot recall exactly when I discovered the magic of books. I do know that no matter how poor we were there were always some books in our house. Usually, in addition to school books, there was a paperback or a magazine such as Popular Mechanics which my father was reading. It was not until much later in life that I discovered my mother also liked to read. As a child it did not occur to me that my mother was much too busy to read. Taking care of five children and a husband without the luxury of electricity, running water, or much money left little time for reading or other pleasures.
Compared to our house, my paternal grandmother’s house had an extensive library. Although there many farm chores which had to be done each day there was always time for music, writing, and reading.
I think I must have been in the second or third grade when I discovered that an entire world of people, places, and ideas awaited my discovery via books. I now suspect that in the small, regional, country school I attended there were not that many books. I do know that there were western novels and a few by authors such as Dostoyevsky. Often I would delay reading the last few pages of a book just so I did not have to experience the profound sense of loss of my new or old friends.
As a child on the farm I could be found or, more accurately not found, by my mother who needed me do chores, in the intersection of branches in one of the large oak or walnut trees.
It was through the magic of books that I discovered other places, ideas, and a wide assortment of people. Although I recall doing well in school, I do not recall getting excited about school books. I now know, of course, that many of them contained the same limited world I experienced with most of my classmates.
In the little, regional, country school I attended there were some wise teachers such as our fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Shepherd. I distinctly remember her saying to the class, “I want you to read. I do not care what you read. I know you boys read those ‘dirty little books.’ That is fine. As long as you read anything, you will learn to enjoy reading. Reading will open the entire world to you.” I, and I am sure the other boys and girls, were shocked that the asexual Mrs. Shepherd (Yuk!) knew about sex and those little books. Only later did I appreciate how wise she was.
My love affair with the magic of books continued to deepen throughout my life. Mr. Twain, Mr. Shakespeare, Ms. Maya Angelou, Ms. Giovanni, Dr. Miller, Mr. Yeats, Mr. Einstein, and many others happily visited with each other on my bookshelves while I am renewed my acquaintance with Mr. Rosenfelft, Ms.Emily Dickinson, Dr. Kaufman, Dr. Russell, Mr. Kant, got acquainted with a new physicist friend, or sat down with a new book by Eckhart Tolle, or …
Today, in addition to the physical building of the public library, I can spend hours with Mr. Goggle or invite Ms. Amazon to magically one-click me an instant visit on my Kindle. Friends also await my visits via Facebook messenger, email, or a blog. I still get excited as I did as a child when I experience the magic of being transported to the virtual salons of the world.
Words 594
Written January 20, 2016
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