A special gift

It was a simple gift, but a very special one, a book: Images of America Reading. I grew up and spent about a third of my life in that Massachusetts town which was founded in 1639.

My roots, even as a Swiss and an ex-American will always be New England Yankee, right down to my great grandmother’s bean pot.

Many of the photos I recognized, some I did not. Words like Torre, Willis Drug Store, Harrow’s chicken pot pie, Red Farms, sent warm wriggles through me.

I noticed how many small businesses were in existence and not just stores. It represented a different economy, a local economy. Only a few days before being given the book, I’d talked to my husband about Ace Corners, those little triangles we used to fasten photos into albums.

I’ve been back to Reading in the last ten years and it was different while being the same. It was like almost remembering where things were. Unlike many towns, it has not been deserted with boarded up storefronts abounding.

The book is one of a series about towns in the US. Each has a personal history as important to preserve as the big events. It’s like lots of pennies make up a dollar. Lots of stories about people make up a country.