The Power of Books

I moved recently, and a large component of my moving included books. Grandmother Jewel Moore ignited the flame for my love for books. For every life celebration — Christmas, birthday, Easter, whatever, her gift was a book and always one of the classics, geared to my reading level. Her gifts of books are treasures I have always cherished. I could immerse myself in a book—once, my children wrapped my Christmas present while I was in the same room with them, without me realizing.

Over the years, professional reading required increasing my book collection as much as personal interests did. We often quipped that if we ran out of money for food, we could always stir-fry a book. A visitor in our home once asked if I had read all the books on my shelves? Like any book lover, I have a section of books entitled “I intend to read.” Vogue India writer Asma Siddiqui said, “The unread pile of books shouldn’t be guilt-inducing but reassuring; proof that we have access to thoughts and stories we might love.”

Books figure into who we are and our outlook on life. Psychologist Ruchi Ruuh wrote that “Bookshelves have always reflected our inner world. They show what subjects spark our curiosity and what ideas we identify with. Owning a book can be as emotionally satisfying as reading it.” Giving up a book is almost like having to give up a cherished pet on moving day. And handing over that book always had to be done as carefully as the adoption process.

But I digress. In the process of my move, I was able, thankfully, to place some valued books in a library where they were not only welcomed but also will be used joyfully. While other books, not significantly prized, I was able to offer to a local charity. Then came the final decision; what about the rest of my books? That became the hardest part. 

Some titles evoke latent memories of early projects, or foundational turning points of my intellectual or emotional development—notations in margins, and handwritten indexes in blank back pages. Such is the stuff of who I was, or my becoming. I don’t know about you, but for me, picking up a cherished book to peruse or to snuggle down to read once more is like revisiting a dear friend or a beloved vacation spot. 

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2026