Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

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Lay Me Down on a Bed of Books

September 13, 2011 By Sandra Heska King

I wake wrapped in zebra sheets. (Maybe that accounts for my battling-the-tiger dreams of the other night.)

Light streams through the basement window, and I turn, and full moon hovers bright.

I’ve tossed all night, brain churning with medical and financial waves.

I reach out and pat them, chenille scattered–Patsy Clairmont and Blackwater Ben and Andrew Murray and Taylor Caldwell and Francis Chan and multitudes Kindle encased in calendar pocket atop quote-stamped daily pages.

And The Word.

They calm me.

And energize me.

There are more. In the car. In the book bag and in the basket.

At home they wiggle off the shelves to nestle on pillows, topple on tables, commandeer chairs and play hide-and-seek with under-the-bed dust bunnies.

Ever-present friends.

They follow me everywhere.

And I can’t imagine doing life without them.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve never been alone.

There was Bambi (I tried to copy it long hand) and Winnie the Pooh (Eeyore’s lost tail scared me) and Nancy Drew (I submitted my own mystery story to the local newspaper that they rejected–so I burned it) and Cherry Ames and the Bobbsey Twins and Dick and Jane and Little House and Little Women (I tried to be like Jo.)

And not to forget Gone with the Wind and Best Loved Poems and my great-grandmother’s Book-of-the-Month-Club arrivals.

I hung out with Navy WAVES and nuns and missionaries in Africa. I wanted to be all of them.

I discovered the classics and today’s Christian authors.

And along came L.L. and others reaching for a higher calling.

And more.

And real writers became real friends.

Each carves a resting place in my heart.

And make me long to leave a legacy of my own.

I envision a Bible in my hands, a tombstone tower of bronzed books, leafy branches that overhang a bench topped with paper and pen, and an engraved plaque announcing, “She lived a word-encircled life.”

Just lay me down on a bed of books.

 Linking up with Laura Boggess and The High Calling bookworms.

 

 

 

 

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Comments

  1. Nancy says

    September 13, 2011 at 8:25 am

    Oh, the Bobbsey Twins! Every one of these posts seems to remind me of an old friend I’d forgotten. “They calm me.” I know what you mean. In my first house, I didn’t have bookshelves or any place to unpack my books, so they remained in storage boxes. It was really unsettling. I feel so much better when surrounded by my books.

    • Sandra says

      September 17, 2011 at 10:22 pm

      Every once in a while, I decide I need to cull the books. Usually I end up on the floor reading.

  2. Sheila says

    September 13, 2011 at 9:12 am

    Me too! What Nancy said! I had forgotten all about Cherry Ames, until I read this post.

    I had to leave most of my belongings behind about six years ago…including 50 linear feet of books. I miss them terribly.

    • Sandra says

      September 17, 2011 at 10:25 pm

      Someone mentioned the Boxcar Boys. I read those, too.

      When we’ve moved in the past, unboxing the books was one of my favorite things. I’d so hate to leave them behind.

      • Sheila says

        September 17, 2011 at 10:58 pm

        I did hate it.

  3. Kenda says

    September 13, 2011 at 11:00 am

    I saw a cemetery marker once that read, “She made home happy.” That and “she lived a word-encircled life” would be my top two choices for the most memorable memorials. Neat post:-) Thanks…

    • Sandra says

      September 17, 2011 at 10:25 pm

      Oh, I like that marker, too, Kenda. Thanks.

  4. Karen R Evans says

    September 13, 2011 at 1:41 pm

    I love this post. Written like a true writer/reader. Amen

    • Sandra says

      September 17, 2011 at 10:25 pm

      🙂 🙂

  5. Deidra says

    September 13, 2011 at 8:02 pm

    I wonder, when Laura Ingalls sat down to write about her life in the woods and on the prairie, did she have any idea? Did she know how many little girls (and boys, if we’re being honest) her sweet words would influence? It’s amazing how far a story can go…

    • Sandra says

      September 17, 2011 at 10:28 pm

      Surely she didn’t have a clue. Sometimes I have a hard time separating the real from the TV characters. Loved the show, too, and all the reruns.

  6. diana says

    September 14, 2011 at 12:34 am

    I SO love this! We share so many friends – although I’m embarrassed to say I never read Winner the Pooh OR Little House. My middle girl read all of those and so many more and now her 10 year old son is following suit. It’s in our genes, I think.

    I’m trying to figure out how to contribute to this meme from THC AND write a promised guest blog at another site on the same topic. I’ve read enough books in my life to fill at least 2 posts, I’m guessing…now to carve them out.

    • Sandra says

      September 17, 2011 at 10:32 pm

      Oh, Diana. Run, don’t walk, to the nearest library and fall in love with Laura!

  7. laura says

    September 18, 2011 at 7:01 pm

    Beautiful, Sandra (sorry I’m so late in stopping by!). I feel the same way about my books–trusted friends. It’s so hard for me to let them go when I finish one. And tomorrow, we start a new one at the High Calling with the new book club! Another feather for the cap :),

    • Sandra says

      September 18, 2011 at 9:14 pm

      Thanks, Laura. I ordered that book. Not here yet. I struggled with that last one on Kindle. I really like to underline and scribble on real pages if I’m going to write about what I’m reading.

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