I’ve been worried about my nephew. He’s a bright young man, but restless. Cooped up, he’s seemed depressed. I tried playing games with him but he’s not especially social. I made paints and other craft materials available to him, without luck.
We’re off the grid, so no internet, which rules out video games and shows. He doesn’t have a smartphone.
We have limited access to nature but he has been able to take walks in the sparse woods nearby. That’s something.
Last weekend, I found a trunk of old books in the attic. On top of the pile inside was my old copy of Anthony Adverse. I hadn’t seen it or thought of it in years. It was a favorite of mine when I was a freshman in high school. Without expectations, I offered it to my nephew. With it he finally found escape, with more books to come.
for Tale Weaver
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