Tonight continues my commitment to more love and less fear this year. For February, I am writing a love letter each day. Tonight is dedicated to …books!
Or, rather, I should say, the books of my youth.
You are still on my mind. After all these years, I cannot forget you, your people, your struggles, your silliness, your fairytales and all the lessons in between.
It’s like nary A Wrinkle In Time between then and now. From when I was just The Little Engine That Could, to a contemporary of Ramona Quimby, Age 8 — to even now, officially belonging to a group of Little Women, your stories have stayed with my heart.
Even after all the changes I went through over this past year, taking care of my head, heart, body and soul — you are still with me! Even after I changed my diet to Green Eggs and Ham and banished coffee (which took more magic than The Wizard of Oz to accomplish!).
Yes, I gave up my most favorite, sugary, chocolate dessert (mochas!) but I will always remember Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. These days, I get my sweet tooth from something that looks more like James and The Giant Peach.
Sometimes, with all these changes in my life, I just wanted to scream, Are You There God It’s Me Margaret? But, I know, in the end, my head, heart, body and soul have benefited from all of this self-care — even though, at times, it did feel like The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.
As I write this tonight, Pup sits next to me. I never thought I could love a dog more than Clifford, The Big Red Dog — but I do! In fact, I can’t even think of Where The Red Fern Grows without tearing up inside.
Someday, I will have a Little House On The Prairie, or in a city, or maybe, in the suburbs. Until then, I will keep moving The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe from one place to another, being more than happy living out my true love story — one that is even better than Anne of Green Gables could have imagined.
So dear books, this is my love note to you.
I thank you for the stories, the laughter and the tears. Because you were the ones that taught me this: our very own story is all we really have (happily ever) after-all.
P.S. I’m going to go take a bath and read a good book. Goodnight Moon!