There's this moment I get, when I've just finished an excellent book, that I get caught up in the last sentence or word of the story and, involuntarily, give the smallest of sobs, or maybe more a sigh with some unshed tears in it.
It's beautiful.
It's a moment of realization that there are things great and good and human to be told that are told, and told beautifully, that there is a connection between us all, and things like love and hope and compassion somehow still have the power to move in us and with us and through us, making us all more like each other, and more like God, more like the way God really is.
I can't describe it, of course, (and when I try, it only sounds cheesy and not really moving at all), but I think it's that moment, that moment of universal connection to the human experience, that makes up part of who I am, that makes me a person who loves books.
5 comments:
Heeeeeyyyy. Um, I like your post AND I'm replying to your comment to say "Thanks. It's good to be back out of the gone-ness of blogging vacation" See you on Saturday...at sometime...I haven't actually looked at my flight schedule yet. lol.
SIGH. That's why I read, too.
It reminds me a bit of that part in Shadowlands, where Jack is talking to his student - the one who steals books. He asks him why he reads, and he says, "I suppose I read to know I'm not alone." Hmmm... it makes me want to go watch Shadowlands right now (or read a good book).
Makes me want to read Goose girl or beauty again...
I feel that way about "A Little Princess," which I just finished for the first time.
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