My love for books is no secret amongst those who know me.
We were denied books in the family I grew up in. My abusive, fear-based parents did not allow knowledge, world view or facts into our lives.
I had so many questions that needed answering.
There were no computers or Internet in those days.
The library was a place of solace. There I could read, research and discern fiction from reality. From there, my love of words grew.
It was Christina Crawford's memoir, Mommie Dearest that validated and clued me into what child abuse was.
Books helped me save myself from despair.
Books gave me language for what was going on around me.
My home is now filled with books.
Like having Teachers, Guardians, Friends and Mentors all at my disposal...
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