My mother use to read to me when I was very young. Every so often she still reads to me – under the guise of a newspaper article she thinks I’d be interested in, or some magazine article that talks about the proper ways in which to train puppies, or something educational like that. When I’m feeling the most “little” I’ll curl up next to her with a book in my hand, and ask her to read a chapter for me. She’ll idly twist my hair around a finger (or two) and read in her soft, animated voice and I’ll decide immediately that I am content. Her reading to me sparked up this habit, I believe, of me reading outloud to myself when I’m feeling the most vulnerable or tired or pensive, I guess the word is. The sound the words make when I speak them calms me and often I can fall asleep much more easily than if I were to read silently. Maybe watching movies at night and falling asleep to them is in a way a bit like my reading to myself, too. I like voices and the way they caress words. I always have imagined the most romantic date. He would read to me, of course, as I lay in his lap – looking up at him and blinking when bursts of air wrapped around the words from the book. He would twist my hair around a finger or two and I would place my hand over his – my thumb gently caressing… Yep. I don’t think even the best kiss (and I am a true believer in the ULTIMATE kiss!) could beat being read to by a lover.

There are certain books that I have on my list that I haven’t been able to share with just anyone. I have the William Gibsons, the Tony Morrisons, the Shakespear and Jane Austin – but there are also books from my childhood that I know will eventually line my shelf. I think Golden book (?) made these little books of fairy tales and bible stories that I just have to have. The books were – I don’t know – about 10 pages long – and had colorful pictures that took up half the page. They were hard covered – but easily grasped in your hand. I don’t know how to describe the feeling I have when I see one of these golden books – they have them in the grocery store down the street and I always fight the urge to buy one (or 10). I would read them too – if I bought them, I mean. Even if I knew every story – I would read them while drinking a glass of milk or something and I would feel (I’m pretty sure) everything that I felt when I was younger and my mother read the same books/stories to me. Books are really powerful – and I know that sounds “trite”.

My auntie had a bunch of books on her bookshelf in her old room and every time I would go to visit my grandmother I would eventually make my way into her bedroom. I would sit on her full size bed with 3 books in my lap: Heidi, Some Nancy Drew Mystery and A Wrinkle In Time. I would spend hours on her bed reading and reading and by the end of the weekend I would have completed every one of those 3 books. Every time I went to visit it would be the same thing – I would go to her room – would pile the 3 books on the bed beside me and I would read. Yes – I would often do other things, too – but by the end of the visit – those books would have been devoured by me. My favorite book was, of course, A Wrinkle In Time. I identified with Meg – being rather awkward and brilliant myself (lol! Ok – not brilliant – but certainly awkward!) and I LOVED the “Mrs’” in the books – they always reminded me of my little great great Aunt Lu on my daddy’s side. She was short and wore her grey hair up in this really messy school marm type bun – and stayed single for her whole life. She also smelled strangely of those butter mints that you find in bowls during weddings or in dishes at Church Socials or whatever. I have read A Wrinkle In Time more times than I can even recall – and have followed the tales of Meg and her brother (and later her daughter) through all the books that followed A Wrinkle In Time. Last year when I taught Bible School during the summer (don’t laugh) – I gave every kid in my class 2 books – CS Lewis’ The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – and A Wrinkle In Time. I think I’ve made my point a couple dozen sentences ago – the book is brilliant and one of my top 10 books guaranteed.

So in honor of the author who I was upset to hear died a few days ago – pick up a copy of the book and read it for old times sake. Seriously. Get over the whole “religious” part of it – and just read it as a spiritual/ethical lesson if it’s easier to swallow. Buy a few copies of the book and pass it along to a kid who may be awkwardly entering junior high and who feels that no one understands him/her – they will really thank you for the gift one day. If you’ve read the book once before – read it again – I’m telling you. You can always find something in that book that appeals to your life at any given moment. I think I’d also like to suggest the other books in the WIT (Wrinkle In Time) series. There’s A Swiftly Tilting Planet, A Wind In The Door – and I can’t remember the others off the top of my head – and I’m on too much of a roll right now to google it.

Madeleine L’Engle – I will always always always remember you – and be eternally grateful for the lessons you taught me in your books. I’m also quite amazed at your scientific abilities – and mathmatical genius as evident in your character’s aptitude of these subjects. Be blessed – stay safe and warm and know that your “spark” helped lessen “Its” hold on me.