(Image: Raven Drones)
Lesley Morrison, a retired GP and grandmother, writes about how a smash and grab robbery has brought her town together
Our town, Peebles, hit the headlines two weeks ago when a bank’s hole in the wall was converted into a very large hole in the wall and cash machines were stolen. A few days later, the Thought for the Day slot on Radio Scotland highlighted the community spirit with which the town responded.
There has since been another positive example of community spirit. The Tweeddale Peace Group held its annual second hand book sale, its 40th, and raised almost £8,000 for peace and justice causes. Over the weekend, 1,800 people (about a fifth of the town’s population) visited, browsed books, had conversations, enjoyed homemade scones and soup and were treated to live music by local musicians.
Not only did the sale raise valuable funds for good causes but it provided a much appreciated, inter-generational community event and a focus for networking and connection, especially among our older citizens at a time when many are feeling vulnerable.
The sale recycled thousands of books. Throughout the year, local people deliver books to a weekly collecting point where a team of volunteers sort and box them to be stored until the weekend in the autumn when they are liberated and displayed on tables filling the Burgh Hall.
A group of senior high school pupils offer their time and muscle power, carrying and unpacking boxes, for which we are very grateful, and, as if by magic, a team of older volunteers (in some cases pretty old) appear and set to. We open to the public at 10am on the Saturday morning by which time a queue is stretching on to the High Street. There is a very special hiatus after all the preparation has been done and before the doors open, when we relish the calm and satisfaction of being in the quiet presence of thousands of books, writers and voices.
Between 10am and 4pm on Saturday and Sunday, people came and went, sifted, read and chatted. One of the organisers reflected: “It is comforting to know that even in this hyper-digital age there is something about dear old-fashioned books – no matter how dog-eared – that draws people together, regardless of age, gender, belief or interest.
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“At the weekend I happened to eavesdrop on a chance conversation between two strangers rifling through the non-fiction table – one was interested in Angora goat husbandry and the other in vintage two-stroke motor cycles … where else would such a dialogue happen?”
The children’s section is especially popular and the glee on the face of an eight-year-old who achieved his aim, found a book on dinosaurs and paid for it with his very own birthday money was heartwarming. The 100th, 500th and 1,000th person through the door won a voucher for books; it was perhaps not a complete coincidence that the average age of the winners was about six. The love of books in the hall was palpable.
As people sipped coffee and tea in the café, they put the world to rights (a tough task), shared sad experiences about the failure of social services to respond to elderly relatives’ needs and revived stories and memories of previous book sales and past booksellers.
The Peace Group started in 1981 in response to concerns among pupils at the High School about the Cold War and the book sale was born five years later. A tabletop archive of photos and press cuttings brought connection, laughter and, sometimes, if the person in the photo was no longer with us, sadness. For some people, especially the elderly and isolated, the sale provides a guaranteed meet-up point with old friends. For others, working at the sale and belonging to the team brings joy.
An energetic seventy-something who had been working non-stop at the cafe for four hours was heard to say, “I don't want to leave. I just love it here. The atmosphere is so warm and people are incredibly generous, they keep rounding up when they pay. I’ve just served scones to three generations of a family, all with arms full of books.” Feeling that you’re part of something useful and communal can help aches, pains and frustrations about care services temporarily fade.
The Peebles book sale (Image: Contributed)
“Think global, act local.” As the regular announcements encouraging people to buy books said, not only were our customers giving books a second life, they were contributing to organisations making people’s lives better, Amnesty, Medical Aid for Palestinians, Campaign Against the Arms Trade, Phoenix Prison Trust among them. One of the hardworking team commented, “We’ll have longer arms and shorter legs by the end of the weekend.” No measurements were taken but it was worth it.
Others across the community contributed in other ways. The local printer produced colourful posters and bookmarks bearing information about the local community garden (especially designed for older people), the Rotary paid for them, and the post office lent us trolleys for moving the boxes of books.
I purposefully wore several things over the weekend: a beautiful sweater knitted by an avid supporter and great craftswoman, sadly no longer with us in body, but who was there in spirit. A pair of dungarees, made by the same woman out of bee-patterned corduroy; I had reacted badly to a bee-sting a few days previously and wanted to feel positive about bees. And a burn scar from a previous book sale where I had been too ambitious about moving an urn of boiling water. All of the above reminding me that, as elders, we can be vulnerable, and that making the most of every day and every opportunity to do something useful makes sound sense.
A book sale regular was there with her son and his partner who live in Stirling. After a happy couple of hours immersed in books and imbibing the community spirit, they commented that Stirling, with all its students, would be a good place for a similar event. As would many towns throughout Scotland. Advice and guidance available free on request at www.tweeddalepeacegroup.org