Lost in another world.

'Any kid who has two parents who are interested in 

him and a houseful of books isn't poor'

- Sam Levenson

Please promise one day you will read this? I'll even lend you Mums copy. 

Mums beloved Book. Now in my Treasure Chest. 

For as long as I can remember my parents have always encouraged me to read different kinds of books. Although I rebelled against what they said at times, it was something that I secretly enjoyed. I found my young love for reading through the likes of Roald Dahl, Tim Winton and the author of my favourite children's book, Possum Magic, Mem Fox. 

Mum and Dad were big readers. Dad would always be reading the war stories and books filled with endless amounts of Alien action, while Mum went for for the more heart felt ones. 

It's funny, Mum only ever read true stories. Her books were always about the fascinating lives of other people. They ranged from African Slavery to heavy drug users who have now come clean. I used to think all these books she read were boring, that was until I started to read them. 

Every night before bed, everyone in my house would be laying less than 20 metres away from each other, all tucked up in our own beds. Each of us would be in a completely different word to one another, yet all under the same roof.  Dad would be a raging soldier fighting ruthlessly in the Vietnam war, while laying right next to him, Mum would be on the other side of the world listening to the chronicle life lessons of Morrie Schwartz, a retired sociology Professor. 

It was always interesting to hear the story of each adventure in the morning before school. One day Mum came to the kitchen and handed me a book - Slave. She had tears streaming down her face, which was not unusual for her after finishing a book, and put the book on the bench. I knew this meant I had to read it. I  was addicted after the first page,  not to this beautiful child's misfortune but to the feeling of being transcended into a completely different world. I began to feel like I was apart of the story. Every emotion became apart of me, from the distressing pain and losses to the relief of conquering life long dreams. 

On my recent walk home from the train station I found myself reading this book for the third time. I was right near the end but the sun was beginning to set, I was literally stopping under every streetlight as it got darker just so I could find out the ending. Sad, but true.

Mum has had this book since 2004.Although it has been in the hands of many others, it has remained a  'boomerang' kind of book. The kind of book that no matter how far away it goes, it always comes back. Every person that has read Slave has left a little quote on the inside of the front cover, giving it a little bit of love and extra character. A tradition that has been instilled from the start. 

This coffee stained masterpiece now rests patiently on my bedside table. It will remain here until someone decides to whisk it up and go on the amazing journey of Mende Nazer, through a life of slavery and astonishing achievements. What a journey it will be. 

Whens the last time you put your feet up, read a book and got lost in another world?

BL. x