Poetry Under Stars

It’s too cold to be outside, but we take blankets out. We can’t resist the stars. After a moment of looking, guessing constellations, Abigail opens up her poets.org and I my Emily Dickinson. Without explanation, we take turns reading. Abigail reads with her gusto, words shooting from her mouth like they’re trying to escape to the stars. I read hesitantly, not belonging to this world of poetry Abigail loves. But we are friends, and tonight is one night that will be perfect as we huddle on a damp blanket, reading words I can’t understand, but words that light up her soul – I can see it in her eyes. This is our friendship: watching Abigail become enlightened at the touch of anything beautiful while I look on, wishing I could understand and feel and become. Wishing I could produce something as beautiful as her soul.

Words on a Page

There is something about words on a page. Words made up of single letters and pages made of words – all interacting on the physical print of a page and in the minds of readers. These words strung together make emotion, tension, and story. Simple letters combined into words, combined into pages, combined into books, combined into ideas. Ideas and books I love.

March 1st is World Book Day. Kids across the globe dress up like their favorite book characters for school – Dr. Seuss hats, various princess dresses, and Robin Hood garb show up in classrooms, and teachers monitor fake swords, plastic bows and arrows, and Thor’s hammer (though they may wonder if comics count as books). These kids celebrate words made up of single letters that turn into pages, books, and ideas. It is a day of personal connections to our quiet characters.

Books hold a special place in my life. My battery life data on my phone will tell you Goodreads is among my most visited apps and my husband will tell you I spend almost every allowance on a novel or two. Students studying at tables in the BYU library will tell you I visit the young-adult section almost every week, pacing among the tall shelves, often with a load in my arms and my coat swishing against my legs.

My heart will tell you that books hold a perpetual longing for me. A place not of escape, but of blessed inclusion in life. Escape seems too negative a term to be associate with books. They offer solitary inclusion – a way of looking and feeling the world in quiet and discovering your place in it.

In celebration of World Book Day, I reflect on books that have offered me a connection to life and have helped me discover a place. Books that showed me what life was like, how to love, how to understand. In special remembrance, almost as if recalling first elementary crushes, I list some of them here, with the accompanying memories.

Tess of the d’Urbervilles. A story of choice, rape, longing, personal discovery, hope, forgiveness, and love. I discovered my place as a woman and as someone who loves. Someone who accepts hard things.

The Rent Collector. A story of stories, reading, and opportunity. I discovered my place as an influencer because I read.

Spilling Ink. A book of writing. I discovered my place as an imaginer and a creator of worlds and people. A writer of letters, words, books, and ideas.

East. A story of legend, trust, discovery, love, and journeying. I discovered my place as one who journeys for important people, places, and ideas.

Unbroken. A story of suffering, hope, survival, and love. I discovered my place as one who is small, but infinitely important.

These are just a few. You can see more of my favorites on Goodreads. What will you do in celebration of World Book Day? What books do you hold in special remembrance? I’d love to hear!