I always wondered <br />where my love of books came from <br />it certainly wasn't from <br />all the tender moments <br />on my parents laps <br />listening to beautiful fairy tales. <br /> <br />I've always been uncontrollably <br />attracted to books <br />with pictures of people... <br />any people... doing anything. <br />As I was thumbing through <br />a coffee table book <br />admiring the beautiful pictures <br />of people in far-off lands <br />I remembered... <br /> <br />As a young girl I would <br />escape through books. <br />Even before I could read <br />I would find old, abandoned schoolbooks <br />in the bottom of our toybox <br />from the many schools we started to attend <br />and then moved again <br />too quickly to turn the books back in. <br />Those books had <br />such wonderful pictures <br />especially the Social Studies books <br />They would show people and lands <br />that I dreamed of changing places with. <br /> <br />I still remember a picture of a man <br />carrying his small child on his shoulders <br />while the mom walked along beside them. <br />That little boy looked so happy <br />like he didn't have a worry in the world. <br />I guess he probably didn't. <br />If I would've been able to <br />climb through the pages and <br />melt myself into that picture <br />I would've done it. <br /> <br />I still catch myself looking <br />at my kid's schoolbooks <br />and noticing all the wonderful pictures. <br />My kids just flip through the pages <br />without even noticing the people in the pictures. <br />Somehow that comforts me.<br /><br />Mary Nagy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/melt-me-into-the-picture/
