The Gift Of Words
It’s midday, 12pm, on a Thursday. I’m hungry, but have noone to spend my lunch break with. It’s a beautiful Autumn day outside - blue skies, gentle cold breeze, and a comfortable temperature. So I grab my Kindle, and my lunch and find a spot to sit in the sun, and read some of my saved articles while I eat.
The Kindle is a curious device. Simultaneously futuristic and comfortable. Capable of storing ridiculous numbers of book or articles, yet light enough to hold with one hand. High tech enough to access the Internet, yet lo-fi enough to become completely engrossed in like an old paperback.
The Kindle has opened up a whole new realm of reading for me. Without my Kindle, there is no way I would spend my lunch break engrossed in the written word.
The Kindle has reawoken in me a love of reading. Real reading - contemplative, solitary, focused reading. Not the kind of reading that I used to do - superficial, unfocused, inattentive scanning.
My Kindle was a Christmas gift from Rachel. But really, the Kindle itself wasn’t the gift. Instead, Rachel gave me the gift of reading, and the gift of words. And there is no way I can thank her for it.