Reading is an escape and a chance to live through a multitude of perspectives, scenarios and emotions. Finishing a book is a bittersweet moment. You’ve finished that adventure and have to struggle to find the next one immediately. I chase that feeling of being swept away in a waltz like Anna Karenina and being lost in a world that I could not possibly ever live. It’s that escape into my reverie that hooks me.
As I read about people's lives I tried to model my behavior after their experiences. I played out my response to a betrayal or how I’d stay composed if I was infuriated. I had a schema for each fictitious issue popping in my head. I dwelled in the land of “what ifs”. My dad worried. “Steph you can’t learn everything from a book. You need to live it. Not everything is black and …show more content…
“Go run and tell all your friends to come and get gifts,” my mom told the boy who lived next door. The little boy in only his underwear ran down and soon we saw little heads sprouting out of windows and walking nervously up the hill to my great-grandma’s house.
I winced when I saw their bare feet step over those rocks. I took a bag down the hill so they wouldn’t walk much. I handed out toys and they were painfully shy, even when I gave them the toys they asked permission to take it from my hand. They had their heads down, yet I could still see the excitement bubbling up in them. They said thank you over and over again. Finally, all the toys were gone. I walked up the hill and we returned to our home away from home.
As we drove away, I felt strange. Traveling to Honduras already is an adjustment. I can’t wear jewelry or I’m just asking to be robbed, I can’t speak English, and these adjustments happen quickly.
My great-grandma's world is even further removed from what I usually experience. Visiting my great-grandma’s took me into a new space; it was like a reality within a
As I read about people's lives I tried to model my behavior after their experiences. I played out my response to a betrayal or how I’d stay composed if I was infuriated. I had a schema for each fictitious issue popping in my head. I dwelled in the land of “what ifs”. My dad worried. “Steph you can’t learn everything from a book. You need to live it. Not everything is black and …show more content…
“Go run and tell all your friends to come and get gifts,” my mom told the boy who lived next door. The little boy in only his underwear ran down and soon we saw little heads sprouting out of windows and walking nervously up the hill to my great-grandma’s house.
I winced when I saw their bare feet step over those rocks. I took a bag down the hill so they wouldn’t walk much. I handed out toys and they were painfully shy, even when I gave them the toys they asked permission to take it from my hand. They had their heads down, yet I could still see the excitement bubbling up in them. They said thank you over and over again. Finally, all the toys were gone. I walked up the hill and we returned to our home away from home.
As we drove away, I felt strange. Traveling to Honduras already is an adjustment. I can’t wear jewelry or I’m just asking to be robbed, I can’t speak English, and these adjustments happen quickly.
My great-grandma's world is even further removed from what I usually experience. Visiting my great-grandma’s took me into a new space; it was like a reality within a