Lynn
recommended The Rent Collector to me as she was reading it for
book club. Good call on her behalf. It was engaging from the get go.
I went into it anticipating a story on the value of literature in
one’s life and the interplay with literature aiding in our
maintaining hope. It was all that and more. For instance the
following poem regarding the nature of eternal love brought
instantly to mind my eternal companion to whom I liken all love poems
and love songs as if they were written only to and of us.
Love
Forever
If
I were the trees ...
I
would turn my leaves to gold and scatter them toward the sky so they
would circle about your head and fall in piles at your feet...
so
you might know wonder.
If
I were the mountains ...
I
would crumble down and lift you up so you could see all of my secret
places, where the rivers flow and the animals run wild ...
so
you might know freedom.
If
I were the ocean ...
I
would raise you onto my gentle waves and carry you across the seas to
swim with the whales and the dolphins in the moonlit waters,
so
you might know peace.
If
I were the stars ...
I
would sparkle like never before and fall from the sky as gentle
rain,
so
that you would always look towards heaven and know that you can reach
the stars.
If
I were the moon ...
I
would scoop you up and sail you through the sky and show you the
Earth below in all its wonder and beauty,
so
you might know that all the Earth is at your command.
If
I were the sun ...
I
would warm and glow like never before and light the sky with orange
and pink,
so
you would gaze upward and always know the glory of heaven.
But
I am me ...
and
since I am the one who loves you, I will wrap you in my arms and kiss
you and love you with all of my heart,
and
this I will do until ...
the
mountains crumble down ...
and
the oceans dry up ...
and
the stars fall from the sky ...
and
the sun and moon burn out ...
And
that is forever.”
Beyond
love, the book spoke of literature and of hope; and also of abiding
friendship and sacrifice in context of Khmer Rouge devastating
impact on Cambodia. An engaging,well crafted with a story that
resonated with me.
LITERATURE
“Words
provide a voice to our deepest feelings. I tell you, words have
started and stopped wars. Words have built and lost fortunes. Words
have saved and taken lives. Words have won and lost great kingdoms.
Even Buddha said, 'Whatever words we utter should be chosen with
care, for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or
ill.”
“Literature
has the power to change lives, minds, and hearts.”
“Sometimes
broken things deserve to be repaired.”
“But
as a wise and great teacher once explained so patiently, all good
stories - stories that touch your soul, stories that change your
nature, stories that cause you to become a better person from their
telling-these stories always contain truth.”
“But
literature is unique. To understand literature, you read it with your
head, but you interpret it with your heart. The two are forced to
work together-and, quite frankly, they often don't get along.”
“At
times I think I can hear my brain screaming, "I am reading here,
so please, all other body parts, do your best to keep up!
“While
almost everything that surrounds us in life gets old and wears out,
stories, like our very souls, don't age.”
HOPE
Believing
isnot enough, Sang Ly. If you want to resurrect hope, doing is the
most important. Can you do these things?”
“I
tell Ki that I'm learning about words and stories to help our family.
He says he's protecting our family She is instant, certain, and
solemn, and there is no misunderstanding her meaning.
"Fight
ignorance with words. Fight evil with your knife. Tell you husband,
Ki, that he is right.”
“Sang
Ly, the desire to believe, to look forward to better days, to want
them, to expect them-it seems to be ingrained in our being. Whether
we like it or not, hope is written so deeply into our hearts that we
just can't help ourselves, no matter how hard we try otherwise. We
love the story because we are Sarann or Tattercoats or Cinderella. We
all struggle with the same problems and doubts. We all long for the
day when we'll get our own reward. We all harbor hope-”
“Our
trials, our troubles, our demons, our angels—we reenact them
because these stories explain our lives. Literature's lessons repeat
because they echo from deeper places. They touch a chord in our soul
because they're notes we've already heard played. Plots repeat
because, from the birth of man, they explore the reasons for our
being. Stories teach us to not give up hope because there are times
in our own journey when we mustn't give up hope. They teach endurance
because in our lives we are meant to endure. They carry messages that
are older than the words themselves, messages that reach beyond the
page.”
“Rain
in the dump makes water filthy. Rain in the garden cleanses.”
When
you dig down, all your filthiness, uncertainty, in fear and vanished
and instead you’re encircled by pure and overwhelming love. The
moments are infrequent in a hectic life that is still a constant
storm of struggle, and then when they occur, these moments are
anchors. They keep me facing in the right direction I still awake
every morning to a dump that is smoky, but through the smoke, I’m
seeing some of the most amazing sunsets.
This
quote well describes how I show up as
I age:
“Two
things happen when you get to be old. One, you gather experience and
knowledge. You learn from your mistakes, and thereby offer wisdom to
others. The second thing that happens is that you grow forgI imagine
this is how it must be with our ancestors; they watch us closely full
of love and concern sometimes whispering encouragement through a
crack but mostly just satisfied to know that we are happy
etful,
ornery and senile, and when you offer advice, well, you sometimes
just don't know what you're talking about. Often it's hard for
everyone-including me-to know the difference.”
“When
you find your purpose-- and you will find your purpose-- never let it
go. Peace is a product of both patience and persistence.”
“Where
is the balance between humbly accepting our life‘s trials and
pleading toward heaven for help, begging for a better tomorrow”
Do
our dearly passed on work harder for us than we do for them?
“I
imagine this is how it must be with our ancestors; they watch us
closely full of love and concern sometimes whispering encouragement
through a crack but mostly just satisfied to know that we are happy”