I love books ... used or new. Always have. I remember biking to the ancient library in town when I was growing up. Or stopping in at the relocated, new, improved facility on the long walk home from high school.
And now as an adult ... The Barn in Pleasant Valley with shelves of books for 25 or 50 cents. Dusty, old flea markets filled with treasures. A rare hour at Barnes & Noble. The tiny, leather-bound antique volumes from Grandma's attic and from a generous friend's stash. Library book sales with all kinds of volumes stacked on tables. Trolling for the perfect used books to read, or give, or sell online. The thrill of a great bargain, a fabulous find.
Cuddling with the grandchildren and settling down with a stack of well-worn volumes that their own moms enjoyed. Discovering the time to spend in the hammock reading on a cool summer day. Or choosing to head off to bed an hour or two early with book in hand.
But, I digress! Gordon MacDonald's not at all excited about the used book sale at the annual town fair. He ponders on his struggle with the yearly downsizing of his extensive library in this reflective piece. If you love books, you'll hear his pain ... click here to read his story!
"Of making many books there is no end ..."
- Ecclesiastes 12:12.