A Love Letter, Long Delayed

Today's fractal image is called Crystal Blue Heart. It seems singularly appropriate for a love letter. I hope you enjoy it, Now, on to todays blog, the first one not related to current events.

Anyone who visits Robyn and I at home would probably be struck by one thing right off the bat: we have lots of books! We have seven bookcases filled to overflowing (and even went so far as to transfer our Cds from their "Jewel Boxes" to binders so we could use the three racks to store paperbacks).

Anywhere you look around our place (except the bathroom) we have books! Yes, Robyn and I are both complete bibliophiles and proud of it!
Our collection doesn’t just sit there gathering dust either! (Well, it does but that’s because we don’t clean up as often as we should.) Both of us read and re-read our volumes: any book that won’t be re-read is passed on. This past week Robyn started re-reading Ingathering, an anthology by Zenna Henderson that caused me to remember why I learned to love reading . . .

Robyn’s parents were both readers so she grew up around a lot of books: my folks didn’t do much “pleasure” reading until later in life so I never had an example to follow. If the truth were to be told it might be a wonder that I ever started reading at all . . .

I was labled “reading delayed” through third grade and I lagged behind most of my classmates. I figured out the key in Grade Four (and a hearty “Thank You“ to my Teacher Mr. Ross for that) so I finally caught up. Still, I didn’t discover the joy of reading in Grade Five when I came across an anthology called Tomorrow’s Children in our small school library.

Tomorrow’s Children was edited by Isaac Asimov: I didn’t have a clue who he was and what he contributed way back when.--nor did I realize how many important authors were included in the volume. The focus of all the stories were young people (and I think it was at least partially designed to get children interested in Science Fiction.) It wasn’t my first exposure to Science Fiction but it sparked something inside me that had been sleeping before. That was due to one story in particular.

Reading Pottage by Zenna Henderson was a revelation: at the time I had no idea why it spoke to me so powerfully. Years later I came to articulate the reasons behind my feelings. The “People” were Outsiders in a hostile world who were persecuted, even killed, for their differences. But it was the very fact of their difference that made them special--and that difference which saved them in the end. To a bright, fat, frankly oddball kid from a small town who spent most of his time on the outside looking in that was a very powerful message. It gave me hope for better days to come. (It wasn‘t until college that I found my own “group“ of “People“ who shared my interests and with whom I felt I truly belonged but that‘s a story for another time: I need to get back to the love letter . . .)

Readers today would probably find Zenna Henderson’s “People” stories quaint and dated (and since they were written in the 1950s and 60s I suppose that isn’t so surprising). The real world has long surpassed the science in these stories but it is the characters that still make them worth reading today. Her work also has a lot more positive and spiritual bent then most of today’s fiction: things can and will get better: there’s a happy ending out there waiting for you.

Sadly, Zenna Henderson isn’t one of the “Classic” SF Authors who has been published and re-published over the years: her stories aren’t respected by most Science Fiction fans so she will likely fade into obscurity. For me though, I will always appreciate her and what she did for me all-unknowing when I was young. Fans of classic science fiction (particularly stories with a psychic bent) would probably find them worthwhile. Her work is getting harder to find but it’s worth seeking out.

Zenna Henderson died in 1983, long before I thought to write this fan letter. Still, I will always have a special place in my heart for this dear woman. Thank you, dear lady, wherever you are May the Power, the Presence and the Name shelter and comfort you as you did for me when there was need. . .