Ann's Words

I have read countless books throughout my life, yet I can no longer remember most of what I learned from them.  So what’s the point of reading so many books?

One day, a student asked his teacher exactly the same question.

The teacher listened but remained silent. He offered no answer that day.

A few days later, the student and his teacher happened to meet by the river. The teacher picked up an old pot with several holes in it and handed it to his student.

“Take this pot to the river,” he said, “fill it with water, and bring it back to me.”

The student looked at the pot in confusion. It was clearly full of holes. How could he possibly carry water in it?

Still, the teacher’s request could not be ignored. So the student picked up the pot, went down to the river, filled it with water, and hurried back.

But before he had taken more than a few steps, the water had escaped through the holes.

He tried again.

And again.

Each time, the same thing happened. No matter how quickly he moved, the pot was empty long before he reached his teacher.

Eventually, frustrated and exhausted, the student returned and said:

“Teacher, I’m sorry. I have failed. It is impossible to bring you water with this pot. The holes let it all escape.”

The teacher smiled.

“No,” he replied. “You have not failed. Look at the pot.”

The student looked at it and noticed something he had not seen before. The dirty, dusty pot was now clean. It looked almost new.

“Every time you filled the pot with water,” the teacher explained, “the water passed through the holes and washed away the dirt. You were never meant to carry the water. You were meant to clean the pot.”

Then the teacher continued:

“The same is true of reading.

Your mind is like this pot, and the books you read are like the water. You may read hundreds of pages and remember only a fraction of what you encountered. But that does not mean the reading was pointless.

The purpose of reading is not simply to fill your mind with facts that you can recall word for word.

Books shape the way you think. They introduce you to new ideas, awaken emotions, challenge assumptions, deepen your understanding, and reveal truths you may never have discovered on your own.

Even when you forget the words, something remains.

Every book you read leaves a trace. It changes the way you see the world, even if you cannot always explain exactly how.

And so, each time you read, you are transformed in some small way. You become a little wiser, a little more thoughtful, and perhaps a little more aware of yourself and the world around you.

That is the true value of reading.

You do not read merely to remember what is in the book.

You read to become someone different from the person you were before you opened it.”

I spend some time gathering books to take with me to the beach.  I’m a pretty fast reader, and I like to have plenty to choose from.  Above is the pile I gathered this year.   Below are the ones I finished.

The Calamity Club by Kathryn Sockett was the book we selected to listen to in the car as we drove to and from California.  We are enjoying it very much.  It’s close to 30 hours of listening, so we’ll be enjoying it for awhile.  Set in Oxford, Mississippi in 1933, it’s the story of an orphan girl and underestimated women who know that calamity can be the spark of new beginnings.  It’s good.

The Sunflower House is a book about the Lebensborn program in Germany during WWII.  I learned some things I didn’t know about state run baby factories and Heinrich Himmler’s ruthless eugenics program where women of “pure” blood stayed for the sole purpose of perpetuating the Ayran population.  Thousands of babies were born and adopted out into “good” Nazi families.  The main character was a nurse who worked in one of these hospitals and the Nazi soldier she fell in love with.  Together they helped girls escape.

Small Things Like These is set in a small Irish town in 1985 with a coal merchant and his family.  The reviews were excellent.  I found there were some good parts, but it felt like a second draft writing project to me. The storyline was poorly developed. I had a hard time feeling the place and time period. Parts felt like days gone by, some felt current day. In all, it was underwhelming and felt unfinished.

The Tale of Despereaux is a Newbery Medal winner I had never read.  I thought the kids might enjoy reading it together with me, which we did in our down time at the beach.  We ran out of time to finish it, so I finished it and will pass it on to them.  It was pretty good, about a tiny mouse, a rat who longs for a world of light, and a serving girl with a simple impossible wish.  It was a nice fairy tale-ish read. Not bad, not fantastic.

Gilead is a Pulitzer Prize Winner, well deserved.  I LOVED this book and will read it again and maybe again.  It’s beautifully written about a man nearing the end of his life. He’s been a preacher. He lost his young wife and child in childbirth and was a bachelor for years. Lonely. When he was in his 60s, he fell in love with a young lady who came into his church one day. They married and had a little boy. The boy was about 6 or 7. The father was about 76 when the book begins. The father is writing to his son who will not know him after he dies–about all the things he wants him to know. It was tender and heartfelt and I loved it. I underlined and starred so many passages. I will read it more than once.

The Bluest Eye is Oprah Winfrey’s Favorite book ever.  Reviews were good.  But oh, what a rough read.  I don’t think I’d recommend it.  It felt like the author tried to cram every possible bad thing into the lives of little black girls. The adults were mean and selfish. Incest, rape, language. Rough stuff.  This book won the Nobel Prize.  I felt like I was dragged through a ditch of muck.

A Man Called Ove  I Loved this gentle beach read. It’s the story of the impact of one person on the world around him. This one person was a grumpy out-of-sorts old man and what happened when new neighbors moved in next door.  It’s a gentle reminder that life is sweeter when it is shared with other people.  Ove changed and changed the people around him. I enjoyed it very much.

The Great Hippopotamus Hotel is the 25th book in this series by Alexander McCall Smith.  I’ve read every one and I will keep reading them.  These books take me back to my beloved Africa. This author nails it, every time.

The Only Plane in the Sky I am reading this excellent book now, as we approach the 25th anniversary of September 11, 2001.  It’s a compilation of almost 500 oral histories built from transcripts, interviews, air traffic recordings, and personal diaries. They cover everyone from President George W. Bush and high-ranking officials to flight attendants, air traffic controllers, and families of victims. It is absolutely fascinating and chilling.  This book reminds me that when we are in the moment of any unexpected historic event, we usually do not know what will happen next. Some people in the top floors sat at their desks waiting for helicopters to rescue them. Some called their families. Some tried to evacuate. Then the buildings collapsed. Many did not see or know what was happening outside of the spaces they occupied. The fascinating first-person accounts in this book show what was going on in their minds from each limited point of view.

I’m looking forward to reading the rest of my pile.  It’s been a busy summer with not much time for reading.  That will change after we move and settle in to our new home this fall.