Yesterday I read this line: “I hope you win that war you don’t tell anyone about,” and I thought of you.

We don’t know you. It’s true. You come, you read us and you leave. We’re just another newsletter. But to us, you are someone very important. You have no idea how much.

Every time you open one of these digital letters, our whole house hums with joy. The day you joined our community was a cause for celebration. Lolita Perrins was growing! How could we not notice you were here?

You matter. Believe it.

But we don’t know who you are. We don’t know if you’re happy, if right now you’re fighting a battle with an illness, a family loss, a broken heart or, simply, that strange tiredness that takes hold of us after the summer and demands all our attention before we can get back on our feet.

No, we don’t know you, but we care about you enough to hope that, whatever you may be going through, it will pass and you’ll be smiling again soon.

Sharing what happens to us with others matters. We know that.

My father died a month ago. Saying it out loud doesn’t make his absence go away, but it does make it easier to bear.

We all have our wars. Some are spoken about and others are fought in silence. And perhaps that’s why it matters so much to know there is someone on the other side. 

That, somehow, our love of books makes us stronger when we’re together.

That’s why, today, we wanted to tell you that we’re here.

Because, in such a volatile world, being there when it matters is half the battle.

Of course, until we read each other again, please, be happy.