Ruth Shaw is the bestselling author of The Bookseller at the End of the World and Bookshop Dogs. She runs three wee bookshops in remote Manapouri, Fiordland.
Tommy Trousers, our Arapawa lamb, has had breakfast, but he is still knocking on the door, wanting attention.
After six weeks of looking after a buff-tailed bumble bee with only three legs and half of her right wing missing, she quietly died, surrounded by freshly picked flowers.
Our backyard became the home of a seal pup which had been shot in the head, our home smelt of ground-up fish for weeks as we nursed her back to health.
The bathroom, which has windows that open onto our backyard, is frequently turned into an aviary for orphaned baby birds who are given the freedom of our home when learning how to fly. When I was writing the first draft of my book our baby thrush sat on the top of my computer screen as she intently watched my fingers race across the keys. Yes, she pooed onto the computer, but what fun to share that time with her.
Our home has always been a place of refuge, a place of healing and love.
Even before writing my book The Bookseller at the End of the World, our home, and the bookshops, were a beacon for people from all over the world. Many just wanted a quiet place to sit; others wanted to talk, cry or laugh. Nearly everyone needed a hug. Only last week a young Chinese lady arrived at my bookshop, we started to talk and within a few minutes she was openly telling me her story. When I invited her to stay with us for the night, tears filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks, we hugged.
She left the next day leaving a note on the table:
‘When I first spoke to you, trying to explain why I’m here and for whom I was buying books, you listened to me so carefully and looked deeply into my eyes. That feeling, the feeling of someone actually trying to listen to me and understand what I wanted was like someone giving me a gentle and tight hug deep down in my soul. Thank you for this wonderful gift of letting me stay at your place to heal.”
So, what are my hopes, dreams and wishes for 2024?
I want to listen more carefully. I want to give hope to the those who are feeling lost, or who are fearful of what our future holds, and I want to hear laughter. I hope that when I hug someone, they realise that it is act of friendship coloured with love.
I have always been a dreamer, slipping from the world of reality into the magical place of imagination. Dreams have kept me alive many times during my life.
Since my book was published, the number of hugs I receive every day is overwhelming. Some are filled with tenderness, others with gratitude, there is often a sadness as tears fall on my shoulder. There is always, always love.
This is what I wish for 2024; more baby lambs, more bumble bees, the ability to honour nature which gives us so much, wanting nothing in return but to be left alone. I want another year with the love of my life, Lance. To curl up with him every night and in the morning say with a smile, “another wonderful day above the grass.”
Everything I want and wish for is also what I want for you. You will never be lonely if you know how to dream.
