Sunday, September 9, 2007
East Village, Sept. 2007
You may have heard that Madeleine L’Engle died the other day at the ripe old age of 88. She’s the author of “A Wrinkle in Time,” which was without a doubt one of my favorite books as a child. One of my mom’s friends loaned it to us after her children read it and loved it -- she thought I might like it as well. I buried my nose in it and couldn’t stop reading. I took it along on a terrific beach vacation to Longboat Key, Fla., and the setting only added to the magic of the book.
It was a fantastic tale all about time-travel and psychic energy and, most fundamentally, love. I can still picture our beach cabin, with me lying on the worn couch reading, in a place I loved with people I loved. I was about 12. I was sorry when the book ended, but so happy with the places it took me.
So thanks, Madeleine, for that Wrinkle in Time!
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My mother always had old books around when I was a preteen and teenager. She frequented the local thrift shop and often bought them. I learned at an early age to enjoy what she brought home, even though they would be considered age inappropriate for a young boy. They were a great escape from the turmoil in our house.
aah..little master reed
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