Books

I love my life. It is so rich, so full of things I have only read about in books sometimes it scares me. Sometimes I wonder if I am only asleep and will wake up to discover this beautiful dream is over. Then I think if that is true my real life must be even better if it produces such dreams.

I am grateful that I am able to read books, to know that there are places to go, things to do, experiences I would never have even dreamed of had I not been afforded this great privilege of being able to read. Books have given me the courage to choose that road, "less traveled by." They have held my hand and led me into the hanging gardens and to the top of Machu Picchu.

Books have filled my hours when I am lonely, sat with me during the long dark night, fed me when I was hungry for things nothing else could provide and been the icing on top of the cake. They inspire me to try and write my own words and even prepare me for other jobs that have enriched my life along the way.

Books are not everything, but of all the things in my life, they probably are the ones whose value I will never underestimate. Someday I would like to write one of my own.