Saturday shelves

Today I went to the bookstore to get one book and I came back with two. The book was for my health class, I'm doing a book report on it, that was easy enough. Going back to the front of the store to the registers I pass by the children's section where someone is reading Peter Rabbit to a group of children.
"...in the neatest sandiest hole of all, cousins--Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail and Peter. Old Mrs. Rabbit was a widow; she earned her living by knitting rabbit-wool mittens and muffetees (I once bought a pair at a bazaar). She also sold herbs, and rosemary tea, and rabbit-tobacco (which is what WE call lavender)." I remember when mom used to read us that.
At that big display of books right next to the register I see "No One Belongs Here More Than You" by Miranda July and it's six bucks so I get it and start reading the stories as soon as I leave the store.
As I read them I wish I was that unafraid. I wish I could tell the kind of stories that people read, the kind of stories that people love, the kind of stories that people quote and retell. Because if I could tell the kind of stories that people read maybe I could feel beautiful.
So far I like this part the best:
Do you have doubts about life? Are you unsure if it is worth the trouble? Look at the sky: that is for you. Look at each person's face as you pass on the street: those faces are for you. And the street itself, and the ground under the street, and the ball of fire underneath the ground: all these things are for you. They are as much for you as they are for other people. Remember this when you wake up in the morning and think you have nothing. Stand up and face the east. Now praise the sky and praise the light within each person under the sky. It's okay to be unsure. But praise, praise, praise.