Independent Bookstore Day was held Saturday, April 27th. I was just a little bit sad because I did not think I would be able to get to any of the nearby bookstores. I was going to be working in the morning, and in the afternoon, I was going to be doing ceramics with Melinda the rest of the day. We had big plans, so many things to make.
As it turns out, Melinda and I decided to start our Ceramics day with a bit of shopping. We went to a furniture store, a thrift store and of course a bookstore. I was very excited that I would be able to be in a bookstore on Bookstore Day. I know it seems silly, but to me it wasn't. We walked all around looking at and picking up many books. I knew that I was also going to buy a book. I do not need another book. I have many books that I have yet to read. I have many books on many shelves in my house. Just ask my friends and family. We just moved and many of the boxes were filled with books!
After walking around the entire store, I picked out the book I wanted. I have never heard of this author. I knew nothing of this book. The title, the cover, and the reviews on the back were enough to draw me in. Then I read the first two lines of the synopsis. This would be my book. So we head over to the counter.
Now I was not only here to buy a book. I planned on talking to them about our Reading Challenge. I planned on asking them if they would be interested in bringing books to our coffee shop for an adult book fair. I explained all of these things to her. She was happy and very excited and interested in what we were doing in our coffee shop. Then she asked me maybe the best question I have ever been asked.
"Why do you care so much about books?"
Wow, good question. I quickly gave her my unprepared answer. And then I added more to it. And then my mind kept coming up with more reasons, more ways to answer that question. And now, here we are 3 days later and I am writing about it.
Why do you care so much about books?
The short answer..
Books are magical. They are places we can go to learn. They are places we can go to see things we could never see ourselves. They are places to play. They are places to figure out who we are. They are places to understand our world. They help us to understand others. They teach us empathy. They give us hope. They are our history. They are our past. They are who we come from.. They are our future. They are the places we, or our children or grandchildren, might go and explore. They are happy thoughts, wishes and dreams.
I do not remember when I first started to care so much about books. I was too young to remember this time in my life. But I have been told this story many times. As a toddler, I would sit and wait for my Daddy to come home from work with a pile of books for him to read to me. This is not because my Mom did not read to me. I am sure she spent much of our day reading books to me. But when my Dad come home, he would read to me. I have been told that many of my favorites I had memorized every word. I would not let them skip a page or shorten the story. Those words were important to me even before I could read them to myself.
My parents read to me. I saw them reading on their own. We always had books in our house. After I started school, I loved getting books from the library, or better yet getting books from the book order at school. Those were mine to treasure forever.
Why do you care so much about books?
As a child. I started to make up my own stories. I later wrote them down, or carefully typed them out. I created my own worlds with my friends. I wove my own tales. The words had to spill from my mind onto the page. I created stories with my children and then my students.
My book shelves are full. I have 1,000's if books. But yet more books find their way into my hands and life. The words are home in my library. My home is a library. The words play and dance and sing.
Books are my happy thoughts.
Books are my wishes.
Books are my dreams.
