I read. I love books, and have since I was a child. I remember almost crying when I finally finished my first "chapter" book. I had fallen in love with the family I was reading about, and was heartbroken to learn that our relationship ended with the last chapter in the book. That, however, did not stop me from falling in love all over again with the characters in the next book, or the next.
The library even had a mobile unit that visited our park in the summertime. One girl from my school read at least a book a day in that park. She was 10 or 11 years old at the time. I can still see her sitting on the ground with her back to a tree perusing the book of the day. Big books, not picture books.
I have books in every room of my house. If you are a reader, you know what I mean. I still visit the library at least twice a week. In fact, just yesterday I saw a flyer on my library's door stating that the library will be closed this Thursday for some reason or another. I had to tamp down feelings of panic.
"I have enough books to last through Thursday." I reassure myself. "There are other libraries that are open that day in case of an 'emergency'," I reason. "I think it will be okay." I state bravely.
Paul used to tease that all was well for me at the end of the day as long as I had access to the three "B's". I usually rewarded myself with a beer in the evening (after the kids were in bed for the night). Add to that a book and a bed (making three indespensible "B's"), and I was a happy camper.
Thank you, Mr. Carnegie. Your generosity blessed my life.