The Book Fairies love me. It’s official.
I am not talking about the ones who leave books in public places; I am talking about the ones who send me books, the ones who send me books without telling me only to make me feel happy and special, and the ones who send bookish stuff.
Please be with me while I marshal my thanks.
Uncle OT found my not-so-subtle request to send me some present on my birthday subtle. So, he sent me a gift card and I got these books. (Uncle OT, Anu Boo sends you love. Me too.)
A friend from Thailand gifted this book and it reached my Kindle. I didn’t know it was coming. A surprise that I will never forget. Right after I land myself in a job, I must send a huge bar of dark chocolate to her.
A friend from Germany sent these. Please allow me to shed happy tears. I really, really want to cry. I don’t know what I can send her. (Hallo Freund, Sie können meinen Hund für ein paar Tage behalten.)
A friend from Singapore thought I would love this book. Of course, I loved it. But this sort of love is melting my heart. Excuse me while I make more saccharine remarks. When gratitude washes over me, I am bound to write posts like this one.
AK observes my moods like a weatherman and sends me these books.
I shamelessly whine on Twitter that I look forward to buying a book after I go back to work. An author, whom I really adore, has now sent that book to me. How do I handle this kindness?
My best friend sends these. *sniffles*
My nephew sends something on animals. He knows me.
There are more. Maybe, my memory is even betraying me. But, I wanted to take a moment to send some love to all the book fairies.
Thank you for sending me books.
Thank you for making me forget my famished bank account and the abandoned Amazon account.
Thank you for being kind when you didn’t have to be.
“Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.”
― Winnie-The-Pooh by AA Milne