A Good Home, Book lovers, Books, Canadian life, childhood mischief, Great books, Humour

I STEAL BOOKS

Like any other criminal, I am entitled to a defence, after all.

So before I confess, let me say this in my defence:

It’s not that I plan to steal books.

Blog Photo - Books - Native Son and Anne of Avonlea

It’s not even that I mean to.

But, somehow, I steal books.

Blog Photo - Books - Morrison and Levy

~~

I have been an obsessive reader since early childhood and it continued throughout my life.

Blog Photo - Books Older

I read everything.

The newspaper.

The dictionary.

One summer when the school library was closed and I had run out of things to read, I even read the Bible.

Someone must have dared me.  And, being very smart, I didn’t realize that some bets shouldn’t be taken.

Blog Photo - Books - The Bible

You have no idea what it cost me.  Two years before, I’d decided that I was an atheist.

The kind that half-believes in God at night, in the middle of a furious storm.

But an atheist nonetheless.

~~

I had hardly begun, when I got to the begats.  They  nearly did me in. Jacob and his wives begat dozens of children who begat dozens more children and when I woke up the next morning, they were still begetting.

Reading the begats was cruel and unusual punishment and I had no-one to blame but myself.

Blog Photo - Books - Bargain with God etc

I imagined that God was having a great laugh.

If I believed in her, that is.

But I digress.

~~

Blog Photo - Books for Kids and Teens

I first stole a book when I was about ten years old.  It was probably a Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys mystery.

I gave it back when I finished reading and I never stole another book till I found myself at a silent convent some years ago.

“You stole from the nuns?” I hear you asking.

Blog Photo - Books - Edna Manley

Yes.  I stole two books from the nuns, but I did not chop down their cherry tree.

I returned the books a whole year later. And they forgave me, smiling at my extreme penitence.

Blog Photo - Books - Mandela

But I stole a few magazines before then.  From airplanes or airport VIP lounges.

Stole them and brought them home because of a great story I wanted to finish reading.

I must have felt really bad about it, because I kept stealing them.

Three in all.

Till one day my eyes caught a small sign on the cover of one magazine, making it clear that the magazines were free to customers.  All three magazines had the same sign.

I know God was having a great laugh.

I’m told he’s funny that way.