I was thrilled to discover the main library downtown had an old book I was trying to track down that was first published in 1939. The copy I found on the shelf in the library that always makes me sad because the carpet is worn and the escalator is broken and the resources are low still has the catalog card in the back pocket. The last written entry is dated July 28, 1971, when the overdue fine was five cents per day. This particular book from a later printing is older than I am—it’s closing in on half a century of existence. But I consumed it in one sitting, turning the thick pages laced with that aged book aroma, taking in a story about a woman and her loneliness, a story about all of us.
Have you ever re-discovered an old book?
Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below. Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 29s.