Friday, March 1, 2019
I love stories.
I woke up this morning thinking that, for whatever reason, the favorite part of any book for me is when I stumble into a story. They are like jewels that glitter and sparkle in the midst of a landscape of monotone words and thoughts.
My new read, Witness: Lessons from Elie Wiesel's Classroom, is chock-a-block full of stories.
As I am prone to do, I started in the middle of the book with a chapter that sounded interesting, only to discover that if I wanted to follow the map to all the buried treasure this book contained, I would need to start at the very beginning. Which I did. This morning.
I am nothing if not methodical in my own crazy way.