A book a part

I can never remember having too many books to read.

When I was three I asked my mother for a reading corner like I saw in a book.  She thought I was silly.

By the time I was ten I had read all the Junior Classic books in our bookcase.  I was allowed to buy one book whenever Scholastic books had their little sale at school and our school allowed us to check out two books a week.

The public library was too far away for me to go alone and my mother wasn't all that enthralled by books.  My father was so busy working it never occurred to me to ask him for anything except for help on the occasional homework if mom couldn't do it.

I was literally starved for reading material until I was old enough to read the books in my father's library.  By then I was also old enough to get to the public library.

Now I live close to the library, volunteer in a school library, and can get to the used Book Barn, or go online.  I know other people who enjoy reading.  Life is good!

One of the best gifts I have ever been given was the very book a young professor read when he was fourteen and discovered he was a dyed in the wool English major.  It has his marks and notes in the margins.  It is like a modern archeological dig!  Not only am I enjoying the book, but the insight into its reader is awesome.

That is the beautiful thing about books.  They are filled with stories about their subjects and the people who wrote them and the people who read them!  I am only a book apart from some of the most fascinating people in the world.