04/23/2024
I went to the recycling center in Huntington to dispose of a lot paper items. Right there on the tippy top of the large rectangular steel paper bin were two paperback books in pretty good condition, no doubt freshly placed there not long before. Admittedly a book addict, I could not resist.
Turns out both books were best sellers.
One of them, "The Camerons", was a proclaimed 'novel of the year' (1975), five months on The NY Times list. Engaging, fun, and a satisfying read, it is one I would have never come across under other circumstances.
The second book is a treasure. This national bestseller, "My Grandfather's Blessings- Stories of Strength, Refuge and Belonging" was written by Rachel Naomi Remen, MD. It is a series of short, poignant real-life stories, with personal reflections.
THIS BOOK is a gift that keeps on giving. Every time I opened it, I discovered another gem. A fresh tonic for my soul. A balm for my weary forehead. I'm waxing poetic - but I am not exaggerating . More than once it brought me to not just tears, but sobs.
Many many times now, I have wondered about the person who threw these away. What would have prompted someone to take such worthy books to the recycle bin rather than passing them on to someone else or donating them to a center of some kind where used books are welcomed. I can imagine a number of scenarios .
First, it was someone who is tired, worn out from illness? and ready to dismantle years of accumulation. Clearing out a homestead is a daunting task, especially if there is any immediacy. With a sigh, one might resign oneself to having to simply "dumpster" it all - because there just doesn't seem to be time to reminisce, reflect, or find the proper destination for so so many non-valuable but invaluable personal belongings.
Or it could be the adult child of such a person who is now recently deceased. Maybe this one is too busy- or too disinterested- or even too grief-stricken- to take the books for personal reading . They are instead shuffled off without so much as even a backward glance- Because sometimes you just can't afford one.
Or , it was a despairing older person now left alone and disillusioned. The books that once brought him or her joy now seem almost petty and deceiving. "I'm throwing these all away" the person decides, "to hell with it." A thorough and non-nostalgic sweep produces two or three bags of discardable refuse- to be unceremoniously dumped by 3:00 that afternoon, no later.
Will never know.
But I believe that books have souls , and that the books arrived to where they were destined. And now, the one especially touches many lives - in its new life in a lobby waiting room. Hard to tell how many.
A whoever you are who dumped the books- you also have a soul. And you did as destiny decreed, though you hardly suspected that that was the case.
We are all so connected , so little do we know how much.
