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Sometimes we are concentrating so hard on our own story…and things we’re going through
we have a tendency to forget other people are in the midst of their story too.

An elderly woman walked into the bookstore…
She was bent over and steadied herself with a cane.
and though it took her a little longer to walk around the store…I didn’t hear her complain.

When I said hello…she smiled at me…stood up a little taller, gave me this whimsical look….
then, breathing in as deeply as she could said, “I just love the smell of books.”

With a smile that engulfed every wrinkle on her face  she looked directly into my eyes…
and said, “I’ll never forget my second grade teacher who told me
If you love books…it’s a love that will never die.”

For a moment all the vestiges of age on her face…and in her demeanor seemed to fade
because in that moment she was not only in the bookstore 
she was back in second grade.

She said the first book she ever read on her own
was about a ballerina her 2nd grade teacher gave her by chance
and how that one book in the second grade led to a lifelong love of dance.

“I may not look it now,” She said, with a smile and a shrug
“but there was a time…not too long ago…I could really cut a rug.”

It was here her story took a turn…as if she was saying stay with me if you can….
she went right from second grade to dancing with her man.

She said that’s how she met her husband…how on the dance floor they would glide,
how they danced together every day…until the day he died.

Again her story moved to when they lived in Tampa…
that’s where they watched their children grow…
when her daughter tapped her on the shoulder and said,
“Mom, our table’s ready…it’s time for us to go.”

She smiled and I swear it was that second grader who gave me a whimsical look…
as she turned, took a deep breath and said, “Yes, I just love the smell of books.”

We all have a story waiting to be told…waiting for us to set it free…
and I’m glad this woman… 
on this day 
In the bookstore
decided to share a chapter or two…with me.
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