Saturday, July 20, 2019
The Magic of Books Essay -- How Education Has Changed My Life
The books that lined the shelves were of many different colors, of many varying ages, and of many various authors. The bindings were leather and paper and even a cotton fabric material, and the lettering embossed upon them was in gold and silver and sometimes in plain ink. Authors that had been passed on reverently from age to age sat mightily in their rightful places, next to their respective equals: such writers as Defoe and Hawthorne sat side by side, while others, like Whitman and Thoreau surrounded them. Each book had been lovingly placed in its specific niche, and as the little girl gazed about the room, it was obvious to her that many hours had been spent placing and caring for this massive collection. Ã There was a distinct smell about the room--not the moldy mothball scent that a lot of people can smell when they walk into a well-aged library, but a smell that reminded the young girl of school and very faintly of knowledge. Strength seemed to give off a permanent kind of glow in this room, as though the books knew that neither time nor age would ever be able to reach them. The smell of age and wisdom and education overwhelmed the little girl and she stood staring up at the many rows of books in awe. Ã When the old woman came into the room, she found the small girl standing in the center of the room and spinning slowly around as she tried to take in every one of the books with her ... ...ry, it seemed as though the myriad of books that lined the shelves were waiting and expectant, listening, almost, for her first words to the little girl. So much education, so much life remained ahead of the little girl, and she could garner so much experience through reading. The library was replete with more knowledge than anyone could ever gain in one lifetime, and the old woman smiled secretly to herself as she read the title aloud to the little girl. Ã The future of the book, she thought to herself as she began reading the first chapter to the little girl, is our children. Ã The little girl smiled and leaned against her grandmother as the landscape of India unfolded in her mind.
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