When I was eight years old, my parents planned a weekend away for themselves to celebrate their anniversary. The babysitting plans they had fell through, so my sisters and I accompanied them to Maine for a few days. It was on this trip that I truly fell in love with books.
My family had a tradition when I was growing up- we would all exchange gifts on my parents' anniversary. My gift from my parents that year was a Great Illustrated Classics book- Alice in Wonderland. (If you're not familiar with Great Illustrated Classics, they're basically abridged versions of classic literature, made more comprehensible for a child, with the added bonus of pictures.)
I remember how eager I was to age those crispy pages. The moment I was buckled, I dove head first into the wonderful world of Lewis Carroll's imagination. I opened the book, and I refused to shut it until the absolute last moment possible- the moment that my parents declared we were getting dinner and I had to leave the book in the car. I thought of nothing but that book until the moment I could read it again. I finished it before the trip was done, and my parents bought me a second book before we came home- The Call of the Wild. I had begun my lifelong addiction.
It's strange how certain things can strike a particular person as so captivating. I don't even have to be reading, just being surrounded by books makes me feel a sense of excitement and calm all at once. It's like that feeling of knowing that you're right where you are meant to be.
As I walked aisle by aisle, gliding my hand across the book covers, I felt a surge of enthusiasm to read anything and everything, yet nothing at all. It's like I don't even need to open the books, because the prospect alone of so much knowledge and so much imagination is exhilarating.
Of course, I do open some- I have opened many, and will open a great many more in the future. I adore gaining knowledge, or just immersing myself in imagination. But the fact that I can gain such effervescence purely by being in the presence of books is a curiosity, and I thought to wonder just how common- or uncommon- it actually is.
Whatever the case may be, I have long been enraptured by the beauty of the written word. I think I echo the sentiments of many when I say that I hope there will never be a day that the enchantment of books is lost. What I gain from them is far too valuable to see disappear. Books are a gift to mankind- may we endeavor to appreciate that.
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