Impressions from Book Lost & Found

Lost & Found

All of my life I have resented reading books, but there is one exception to this statement. It was the last two weeks of the fourth grade and Jenks West Elementary was putting on the yearly book fair for the kids. Every student was on their best behavior so that they didn’t get their book fair privileges taken away by their teacher. I personally was better behaved at home so that my parents would reward me with money to spend at the fair. The book fair wasn’t just books, but an assortment of everything a nine or ten year old could want. The fair had candy, unique bookmarks, posters, and slinkys just to name a few. I had always wondered why the school puts on this magnificent book fair where kids buy everything but books, and then I realized. The toys are there to draw the kids to the fair so that they can be exposed to the large diversity of books; it sure worked for me.

It was a beautiful spring morning at the end of May and I was in route to the school cafeteria, where the book fair was being held, with my class. After a grueling three minute walk around the A/C cooled building, we arrived at the book fair. I immediately fast walked paced over to the toys where I bought a poster of a car as well as a poster of a plane breaking the sound barrier. I had finished buying all of the things that I knew I for sure wanted, but I still had a scrap of money left over and a solid forty minutes to engulf so I decided to view the books. I walked over to the section of books where I hadn’t seen anyone and began to browse. As I picked up book after book, glancing at each individuals cover and occasionally brushing through the prologue I noticed a book on the very top shelf that could have easily been a mile up, with a small bush plane crashed in the middle of a massive pine and spruce forest. The book peaked my interest and urged me to pick it up, in large part because it reminded me so much of my favorite movie at the time; Alaska. I was so thrilled by the cover that I took it straight to the check-out counter to pay for it without even reading the prologue.

Thereafter, I waited outside the school’s main doors at the parent pick up area for my mom to arrive. I could see my mom’s car near the end of the line, which bulged out into the street and stretched for a half mile to the stop sign. I sat under the faded yellow awning, attempting to keep out of the sun, watching as the kids came and went until finally my mom pulled up in front. I was eager to tell her about the book and the poster I had purchased from the book fair and she was all ears until we finally got home, but by then I was already done talking. When I walked into my house I rushed directly over to the dining room table to set down my backpack, posters, and book so that I could watch the last episode of Tom and Jerry for the day. Once I had finished my homework for the night I went to bed, but not before I told my dad goodbye since he was leaving early in the morning for a two week business trip to Houston Texas. I was imagining the story in my head all of the next day during school, so naturally when I got home, I was eager to read my new book for the first time since I had bought it. Devastatingly enough, I couldn’t find my book anywhere. I looked on and under the dining room table as well as in the chairs surrounding it. I searched my living room, my room, my backpack, but the book was nowhere to be found. I thought to myself “how can this be? It was right here not 24 hours ago.” gesturing towards the dining room table.

Feeling defeated, I gave up and attempted to finish the school year strong. I had never been so distraught over a book in all of my life, but I felt much better when my mom told me that dad was coming home. I had been out of school for three days when he came home, and little did I know that he had come bearing gifts. I had no earthly idea what he could have acquired for me, and then he snapped open his briefcase and pulled out my book; I was ecstatic. It turns out that he had accidently picked up my book with a stack of papers and placed it into his briefcase.

Further, while the majority of my friends were in summer camp during one of the hottest summers on record, I was inside reading my book as much as possible. I read on the soft carpeted floor of my living room in between the cumbersome brick shielded fireplace and cherry coffee table. I would read until my eyes watered from staring without blinking or closed from pure exhaustion. I had never read so much in such a minute amount of time and enjoyed every sentence of it. Never had I experienced the desire to keep reading to see what happens next or the tragedy felt when something went sideways from what you thought. I would read in our guest room directly under the window sill so that the sun would shine on the pages but not in my eyes. I became relatively clever when it came to places to read, but my all time favorite place to read was in my bed at the end of a long day. To me there was nothing better than waking up at one o’clock in the morning with my book lay across my lips and the room lit by a gentle glow from the small lamp on my nightstand next to me.

In the end, I owe my love of reading to my fourth graded book fair where I found the book that changed my views entirely. I went from a kid with a grudge against reading to one with a heart for it, although I don’t enjoy all genres and settings I have found one that I have come to love. I have found my love of reading in the Action/Adventure/Mystery genera, but the book has to take place in the outdoors; I feel connected with the outdoors.