Article June 17, 2002 Issue

A closetful of gratitude

Mark Swinney

WHEN I WAS IN FIFTH GRADE , my family lived in an apartment where the only place I had to myself was a small closet. Into that closet I squeezed a chair, a little bookshelf, a light—and myself—so I could read in private.

There were two books I was especially interested in: the Bible and Science and Health. My first response to those books, after looking at how thick and long they both were, was "What a lot of words!"

There certainly were a lot of words on those pages, and I certainly didn't understand everything I was reading. But the spirit behind some of the ideas I was reading about began to get through to me in a big way. Sometimes, after finding something new in one of the books, I'd feel completely above all of the fears of the world.

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