Being into all things old, there is often the chance to start a new collection of something. Over the last year or so, I have begun to covet, search for and pick up old Bibles.
Now, although the words inside are not my faith, I cannot help but be drawn to them. It is not the teachings within that speak to me, but the thoughts of the former owners who did find solace nestled in the thin, word stuffed pages.
And if someone has written inside, well, then dear people, I have to take it home.
I find it sad that these bound and pre-loved beauties end up being discarded. I always get the feeling that they meant a whole world to someone at some point, and there they are at the car boot, on in the case of this one, at a charity shop for £1. How can an item that meant so much to someone be purchased for so little?
Who was Jane Howes and why was this presented to her? Good behaviour at the school stamped into the front? Top marks in her class? Was she a teacher as opposed to a student? These are all questions I find myself longing to know the answer to. I am sure I shall end up down the census-internet-search-possibly-writing-to-a-records-office rabbit hole at some point.
Something about this, as with a lot of old things, be they clothes, crockery or photographs, reach out to me and ask me to be their new custodian. I am only too happy to oblige.
If they just so happen to be an antique for 100 pence, then all the better.
I like the fact that, although they may not be read by me for the lessons within, they are no less cherished for it.