For the Sake of Books

 Homeschooling for many years leads to an accumulation of materials. Bins, baskets, and carts overflowing with math manipulatives and art supplies. Junk drawers with buttons, knobs, and bits of string. Stacks of egg cartons, empty produce containers, and rinsed out milk cartons on the refrigerator. And not to mention the books! Five full shelves stand testament to my love affair with the written word. My memory space is limited and the usefulness of technology at times lapses, but books! 

Books hold pages upon pages of knowledgeable language that speaks to us timelessly and indefinitely. Rattling our brain cells around in a quiet, still type of way that only reading from the physical page can afford. The smell of a book whether old or new is as comforting as the scent of fresh earth after a rain to me.

So, how can I decide what to keep and what to sell? Which ones to give away and which to toss out? I am too sentimental about them, I admit. I pick one up, that my children have well outgrown, and memories rush up to greet me of reading this story to them when they were small enough to fit in my lap. Tears well up, and I quickly dry my eyes. 

"It's ok. It is a good thing for the children to have outgrown these stories," I console myself, "just put them back on the shelf. They will keep for another special child, a grandchild perhaps."

Other days I chide myself for being so bound to earthly objects. Even some days find reason with giving a few away to a family with younger children. Only to be found out by my children a month later, when my teenagers, upon some whim, happen to try to hunt that certain title down to no avail.

"Mom, where is Harold and the Purple Crayon? Where is Ferdinand? What have you done with them?" my children interrogate me!

"Oh, you know we haven't had a need for them for quite awhile now, so I found them a new home where they will get some use," I reply as a smile erupts on my face from my warmed heart. 

They remember, too, when they were small enough to fit in my lap and the tender memories we made reading books.