Book Sharing

My house is covered from end-to-end in books. As I’ve said in previous posts, to me, the best way to get kids reading is to make the books readily available to them. If something is all around, you’re just bound to love it, right? It’s true. Sort of. My kids do like to read, although they go through phases with their attraction to reading, which is partially caused by distractions such as Facebook, hacking each others computers, or just being a teenager. What I do notice, though is that they don’t treasure or revere the actual physical objects called books like I did as a child. I still have some of the books that I loved, even now, 30 years later. When I see them, I smile. There are memories associated with them. Now, maybe it’s just me, and my attachment to things that are meaningful, but I like to keep my books forever. I was devastated when my parents accidentally sold a box of my childhood picture books at a garage sale. And I still think about my ‘babies’ that were donated by my husband after we moved into our current home. Maybe I’m selfish, or even a hoarder, but I like to keep my books all to myself, even those I have no intention of re-reading. (I do share if the borrower promises to bring the book back forthwith.) After all, the stories are mine, right? Associated with those pages are my memories and the vivid imaginary experiences that I’ve had with the characters. My kids, however, are very happy to clear their bookshelves, either sharing the books around the house with a sibling, giving them to friends or their cousins, or in the case of my youngest, donate them to his school library. As he said, ‘These are books I don’t want anymore. But, they are titles (I swear he used the word title-he’s gifted) that other kids like and are in demand with the school library. I already spoke to the librarian.’ I sift through their picture books alternately smiling and sobbing as I reflect on the memories contained therein. I think about warm, cozy story time and soft, downy, post-bath time heads snuggled against my chest as I read them about the latest adventures. But, they are just ready to move on. They seem to be able to separate the object (book) from love of the story. I can’t decide if it saddens me or baffles me. Maybe I’m selfish or just sentimental. Books are for everyone. They bring people together. My kids understand that these stories are meant for sharing. Instead of squeezing their bookshelves ever tighter, double stacking and haphazardly piling, my children want to pass on their favorites to others who might enjoy them. I’m starting to think that those kids have got it right and its time to overcome my possessiveness over my paperbound bits of happiness. I think I should begin to follow their lead starting with this holiday season. I encourage you all to share the gift of reading by dropping off a box of books to STELLAA, to make a donation, or follow my son’s lead, and give the books to your local school library, shelter, or even hospital. I hope that this New Year brings you health, happiness, and the prosperity that comes from within.