The Giver

One of my favorite things I've done with the kids this summer has been reading to them one of my all-time favorite books, "The Giver" by Lois Lowry. An excellent summary of the book is provided here. (In order to understand my feelings and emotions you may want to check it out really quick) Yesterday, during Quiet Time, as I was reading from the book I nearly broke down in tears. As four of my kids and I cuddled up together out of the couch my voice quivered and cracked as I read this:

"What is your favorite?" Jonas asked The Giver. "You don't have
to give it away yet," he added quickly. "Just tell me about it, so I can
look forward to it, because I'll have to receive it when your job is
done."

The Giver smiled. "Lie down," he said. "I'm happy to give it to
you."

Jonas felt the joy of it as soon as the memory began. ometimes it
took a while for him to get his bearings, to find his place. But this time
he fit right in and felt the happiness that pervaded his memory.

He was in a room filled iwth people, and it was warm, with firelight
glowing on a hearth. He could see through a window that outside it was
night, and snowing. There were colored lights: red and green and yellow,
twinkling from a tree which was, oddly, inside a room. On a table, lighted
candles stood in a polished golden holder and cast a soft, flickering
glow. He cold smell tings cooking, and he heard soft laughter. A
golden-haired dog lay sleeping on the floor...

...While Jonas wathced, the people began one by one to untie ribbons
on the packages, to unwrap the bright papers, open the boxes and reveal toys and
clothing and books. There were cries of delight. They hugged one
another.

The small child went and sat on the lap of the old woman, and she rocked
him and rubbed her cheek against his.

Jonas opened his eyes and lay contendedly on the bed, still luxuriateing in
the warm and comforting memory. It had all been there, all the things he
had learned to treasure.

"What did you perceive?" The Giver asked.

"Warmth," Jonas replied. "and happiness. And--let me
think. Family. That it was celebration of some sort, a
holiday. And something else--I can't quite get the word for it."

...Jonas hesitated. "I certainly liked the memory, though. I
can see why it's your favorite. I couldn't quite get the word for the
whole feeling of it, the feeling that was so strong in the room."

"Love." The Giver told him.

Jonas repeated it. "Love." It was a word and concept new to
him.

As I read that and felt the nearness of my children all around me, watched the rapture on their faces as they became a part of the story, their eyes big with wonder, those feelings and ideas Jonas learned about--warmth, love, family--seemed to swell inside of me so strongly that my eyes started to water and my voice faltered.

I thought immediately of our recent vacation we took together--camping at our favorite place in the world--and the feeling of togetherness and oneness we experienced while there. I thought of all seven of us sitting around the campfire as it cracked and sizzled and popped while they listened to me read my favorite account from the scriptures. I thought of the stillness and fulness of the mountain air at night, the comforting presence of the stars overhead and the trees all around. I remembered the feelings I felt so strongly in that moment looking into the faces of the people I loved most in the world. Warmth. Love.

I can't imagine living in a world like the one Jonas inhabited. Where Sameness pushed out every unique and special thing I love about life. Where agency and choices were stripped away. Where families were assigned for temporary functional purposes instead of created for eternal happiness and joy. And then--again--a realization floods me, one that cannot happen often enough. I am exactly where I am supposed to be-- and even though not every day is full of moments like these--what matters the most is that I am able to feel, find, teach, and show Love.