I love old books. Oh, it’s not the broken bindings or the crumbling pages or the under linings of former readers -- it’s their rich content that stirs my soul. I have contemplated making a New Year’s resolution next year to spend one year reading nothing but old books -- books that are at least 50 years old.

My wife is our church’s librarian. Before she took over, the library had been neglected and the shelves had become filled with a lot of uninspiring books. She asked if I would gradually sort through the shelves and help her determine what was worth keeping and what should be discarded. At first, I helped reluctantly. But much to my delight I have found treasures among the debris of bad books. Now I feel as giddy as a child on an Easter egg hunt when I tackle a new shelf. In my next post I will begin sharing some of the delightful books that I have uncovered in my task.