half past nomad

I read the local paper at lunch. The event of the year, of years, the fifth book released, the children delighted, the money mongrels ecstatic, the parents joyous, the audience thrilled and moi, bookless, pennyless.
Sab’r.
I have dibs on 4 different HP5 sources. Allow me:
1) K.D., who reads along with her two children.
2) M.J. and S.J., who bought two copies, for each child.
3) Public library, 3 copies, i’m the 9th in the list. Mrs T insisted I be smart to do so.
4) Akds, all the way in __, who bought it for his sister, who reads it under pretense of reading it to her young son, who pro’lly struggles to even carry the dang large books nowadays. To be mailed when read.

Each book, to be handed over when read thoroughly, when deliciously tasted, when pages have been eagerly turned over, when smiles have gone on for days to read of loved characters in events tragic, heroic – human.

So imagine the surprise when KD comes up to me today and annouces her sweet intentions. Still in its Amazon.Com packaging, she hands my her copy. I’m dumbstruck. Does she not know the treasure within, the laughs captured in pages – of the adventures you are delaying KD, do you understand what you’re doing?
“I do Waleed, I do”, she tells me, “Just go ahead, read it. You’ll pro’lly read it faster then my kids anyway, and I thought to myself, that therefore you should get first dibs. (Before her own flesh and blood, I think to myself). I’ve kept it in my car since I got it, hoping to bump into you; I even drove by on Sat and dropped into the dept to see if you would be there, but then remembered you were pro’lly in bed, ill. Eh, it’s only two days of waiting, right? And you get the book, untouched. Virgin.

Enjoy the book Waleed. DON’T TELL ME ANYTHING. But just take your time to savor it. I knew you would love it.”

KD. Thank you. For I do not have words.

Be it a book, be it lunch, be it a smile shared amidst a crowd. That’s what so nice. That even when you didn’t realize it, you did belong somewhere. That people cared about you, despite how alone you thought you were. That outside office walls and classrooms, professors and others think of you when they’re buying books at midnight, laughing with their children.
It’s good to be cared for. Alhamdulilah.

This entry was posted on Monday, June 23rd, 2003 at 7:36 pm and is filed under General Lee.