Pooh
This afternoon we visited Carol, a newly chrismated woman at our church who's been fighting cancer for the last two years or so. Her wheelchair bound husband recently fell down a flight of stairs and is not doing too well at all.
It was my first visit to her house in the heart of Austin's Tarrytown. Pictures from their life filled just about every square inch of wall space, and books cluttered just about everywhere else. I like houses that have personalities.
Isaac noticed 4 classic editions of A.A.Milne's Winnie The Pooh books with Ernest H. Shephard's illustrations collecting dust high on one of her shelves and mentioned them to Carol. She carefully walked over, removed the books from the shelf, and gave them to Isaac. For keeps. They were her younger brother's books, and at 50 years old he could care less what happened to them.
I reverently opened the books and read "To my Christopher, so he can read about another Christopher. With love, Mama. Christmas, 1966."
I love books that have personalities, too.
It was my first visit to her house in the heart of Austin's Tarrytown. Pictures from their life filled just about every square inch of wall space, and books cluttered just about everywhere else. I like houses that have personalities.
Isaac noticed 4 classic editions of A.A.Milne's Winnie The Pooh books with Ernest H. Shephard's illustrations collecting dust high on one of her shelves and mentioned them to Carol. She carefully walked over, removed the books from the shelf, and gave them to Isaac. For keeps. They were her younger brother's books, and at 50 years old he could care less what happened to them.
I reverently opened the books and read "To my Christopher, so he can read about another Christopher. With love, Mama. Christmas, 1966."
I love books that have personalities, too.