Wednesday, August 7, 2013

People ask why I love words and the books that contain them so much. And this is why.... I love books because of the magic that are contained in and between the black marks within them. There is power in story. Stories have shaped and molded me into the person I am today. The countless books I bury my little nose into stay with me far longer than when I close the back cover.

Characters have taught me to value love, friendship, faith, courage and kindness. They've shown me there is more to life than obtaining wealth, power and selfish, greedy, cowardly, small souled individuals were not to be admired or emulated.

And while I've learned all this while flipping through pages, I have also had the time of my life...

I've buried my hands in Aslan's mane and heard the roar that broke winters back, I've passed through the emerald Shire, had my breath stolen away when I glimpsed Rivendell and Lothlorien, I've stood on the edge of a windowsill while Peter beckoned me to follow him to the second star to the right and straight on 'til morning, I have curled up in a little cabin listening to Pa tell stories in those big woods, I've stood on the edge of cliffs and stared across the Dark Sea of Darkness, I've frolicked in the meadows that surrounded Green Gables and fallen in love with Avonlea, I've laughingly given Christmas breakfast away with the March girls, I have sat on the back of a wild midnight colored stallion with my hands buried deep in his ebony mane racing the wind, I've passed through the dark misty land of Shiloh with pain in my heart, I have squeezed through a hundred cupboards fighting an ancient evil with Henry York, I've practiced my archery skills with the Merry Men and knew that I would follow Robin anywhere, I've sailed the high seas and seen the wild red hair of Fin button, climbed over mountains into the Heart of the Rockies, and been on a thousand other adventures.

Read. Books.

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