My Beautiful Book...



As I wandered through streets alone one night I came upon a toy store whose late hour perplexed me.  Walking inside I noticed how this place had a toy for every type.  Shiny and dull.  Clean and dirty...everything that would draw a child's attention was represented in one way or another.

Perusing down the aisles I came upon something different.  It was a book.  A book whose binding was strong, crested with golden emblems.  Yet the pages, from beginning to end looked like they had seen wear.  Pages taped up with scattered burn marks yet all were still legible.  Some pages even had what looked like dried up tear marks on them.  It's wear only adding to it's innate beauty.

As I started to read, all I could think was "what can I find in a children's toy store worth the heart and mind of a man".  To my pleasant surprise, every page had me captivated.  Every page had me sold into the idea that this tome did not belong in this toy store.  It was worthy of being read in times of needed respite.  Given place among poems and faith.  To be read with occasional sighs of relief and sincere interest...to be read.

Thankfully, I'm still reading...