Skip to main content

Read A Book

When people ask me what I do in my spare time, one of my answers is almost always “reading.”  Now, I know that does not sound like the most exciting answer.  It may not seem thrilling or especially active.  To me, though, reading is just as exciting as almost any other hobby.  For me, reading is a source of memories, a reminder of a part of my life.

I vividly recall, on sunny days, sitting on a blanket in my front yard, a book in my hands.  The sun at my back, I practically inhaled the stories.  On summer road trips, I whiled away the trip by reading.  It was not unusual for me to finish a book over the course of a trip.

When I had read all of the books I had, we would go to the library to find new options.  Some of my most constant childhood memories involve trips to the library.  During the summer, especially, my mother would take my brothers and me to the library.  We would walk through the doors and split up, my brothers and I heading in one direction, towards the children’s section, while my mother went in the other direction, to the novels and biographies, her favorites.  After a long time spent wandering the aisles, we would come back together, each of us with a stack of books in our hands.

To this day, when I am looking for something to do, I invariably will grab a book, even if it is one that I have read many times over.  I will pick it up again and read it as if it were brand new.  I never tire of scanning the pages, revisiting favorite stories and discovering new details.

As my friends have started having kids, my go-to gift for them has not been a toy or something from a registry.  It has been books.  Books I read as a child.  Books my friends read as children.  I want them to get the same enjoyment from reading that I got.  What better way to do that than by giving them a book.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Catch A Cab

We had been walking for about forty-five minutes, making our way from Manhattan’s South Street Seaport to the Macy’s flagship store on 34th Street. When we were within fifteen blocks of our destination, some of my companions decided that we should complete our journey by cab. Despite my attempts to convince them to keep walking, they were insistent. The trip that ensued was a true New York experience. After a few minutes of trying, one of my companions was able to hail a cab. However, we wanted to go north. The cab that stopped was going south. It did not seem to matter, though, as my companions still got in the cab. One person sat in the front while I slipped into the backseat, between the other two. Hardly before the doors could close, the driver had fought his way into Manhattan traffic. Without warning, he took a sharp right turn onto a side street and began to head north, steadily increasing his speed. Within seconds, the cab was weaving a...

Looking At My Luggage

More than twenty four hours had passed since I had arrived in Washington, D.C. My luggage was still nowhere to be found. Despite the promises of the airline’s agents, my missing suitcase had not yet been delivered. With no other alternative, I had spent the day touring Washington in the clothes that I had worn a day earlier. Clothes that I was still wearing. A full day had passed. My friend and I had returned to her house from dinner to find that my belongings remained missing. I promptly began calling the airline, trying to track down my baggage. The agent assured me that my luggage had been located and dropped off at my friend’s home by a delivery service the previous evening. I assured her that it had not been delivered. After more than fifteen minutes of her continued assurances, I was transferred to the delivery service. As with the airline, the delivery service assured me that my luggage had been dropped off, going so far as to give me a specific time at which i...

Pictures From the Ledge

          It was a photo opportunity that could not be missed. Why else would I be doing this? Typically, I was a very cautious person. But, there I was, with a friend, standing in a short line waiting to have our photo taken in this precarious-looking spot. I looked around me. The view was simply stunning. I could see why this was a popular photo spot.           I was nearing the front of the line. When the people ahead of me reached the front of the line, they gave me their camera, took a few steps forward and posed. I took their picture and returned their camera to them as they passed me by. Then, it was my turn. My friend and I passed our cameras to the people behind us and took our places a few steps ahead. Separately but quickly, our photos were taken and it was the next person’s turn. Before I left, though, I could not resist taking a look at where I had been standing. I...