A Box of Discarded Books

There is a giant box at our local recycling center for the books in the community that no one wants. The ones that don’t even sell at the second-hand store for a nickel. I went to the recycling center today to save these books, as I have been blessed and cursed with the opinion that inanimate objects, especially books, have feelings.

While I was bent over the box, reaching for a hardcover copy of Stephen King’s Dark Tower series volume IV (score!), a middle-aged Hispanic man who works at the center came out and brought me a ladder so I could safely crawl into the box. Turns out he, too, rescues books and has two full filing cabinets in his office. His favorite finds, which he keeps separate in the bottom drawer, are a copy of The DaVinci Code, One Hundred Years of Solitude, and a dog-eared copy of A Christmas Carol.

We got to chatting, and I learned he is also an author. His book about his life growing up in New Mexico comes out next month. I shared with him about my own stories and writing journey. I thanked him for his help and conversation and congratulated him on making his dream of writing a book come true.

It was one of those lovely encounters that reminded me how lovely, colorful, creative, bold, and kind most people actually are. People like this man, the unassuming writer who rescues old books and works to make our planet greener, make this country great.