I love sefarim, but… they’re colonizing my house. Every step I take I’m bumping into a sefer. And some are huge – like 18 inches high.
I tell my husband I’m bringing the ones with cracked spines to sheimos.
He tells me there’s an inyan about not getting rid of sefarim. I ask for the source but he can’t tell me where it is.
Finally, Yisrael says, “If you want to put any sefarim in sheimos, do it, but don’t tell me about it.”
As if it hurts him to see them buried away. As if I’m sending off a beloved aunt to a faraway ratty nursing home.
And suddenly it hurts me, too, a little bit. But not enough to stop me from my sheimos campaign.
So, I go up to the attic and snap photos of old tomes and forward them to Yisrael: Do you use any of these?
Immediately – No.
I get a box together, and hear a ding on my phone. Keep the maroon one, volume Gimel.
Out of the box it goes back onto the shelf.
I scan a different bookcase. Hey, it’s my stuff. My eyes land on Book of our Heritage. Well, Elul is upon us. Now I see.
Beyond the Sun, by Dovid Zaritsky. Wow, time for a reread. OMG – there’s that book of poetry by Yehoshua November, G-d’s Optimism, which I thought I’d lost forever. I gather all my jewels, plop onto the attic floor, and start reading.