I mark my life with books. My first audio book was my mother's voice reading Huckleberry Finn to her only child during the dark days of World War II. When mother read, I no longer felt alone as the New Mexico sandstorms wailed through the loose windows of our gray stucco house in Gallup, New Mexico. I wasn't there. I was inside my mother's voice, and we were both rushing down the fast-running Mississippi River on a raft, and America was opening up on the way.
And so it would go, book after book, until I took my first solo journey into Robert Louis Stevenson's Kidnapped, and realized there was a voice beyond my mother's. It was inside the words themselves and I could find that voice all by myself. From then on I have always had a book nearby (from Mystics, Ten Who Show Us the Ways of God.) Read more.