Libraries are truly magical places. Places that are full of books, which are full of words, and where you are encouraged to touch, explore, and even take home, all for free.
Yes, I was that kid. I’m still that kid. The one who thought school was fun, the one who hid in closets and bathrooms just to finish a chapter before getting told to finish my chores. For a highly sensitive child trying to navigate this thing we call life, libraries, and the magical things they contained, were my safe spaces. I grew up in a (very) small town. It was the kind of town that had its own community holidays and traditions. Main Street had a dime store with a player piano across the street from a feed store. It was the kind of town whose major controversies were what to do with the rocket in Rocket Park once it became too rusty and unsafe to play on, (they kept it, fenced off, for sentimental reasons) and whether the town would approve of building a McDonald's (we got one when I was a teenager, but it was technically just outside the city limit).
But it had a library. My first library.
The library was a tiny brick building, about the size of my first apartment, with only a couple of rooms, and a creaky floor near the entrance. This was before the internet, before anything was digital, when we relied on card catalogs. It was near where my great-grandmother lived and we would walk there when I visited. I still remember the excitement and anticipation when I was one of the first students in my class to finish the summer reading program. I got a certificate, a free personal pan pizza, and my very own library card. I might as well have won the lottery. Where else could a kid who was frequently overwhelmed go for some sanctified quiet, for the security of the stacks to wander and browse and try on different worlds?
On special occasions (or they seemed special to me, they were probably ordinary occasions to my mother) we would make the drive to the library in the next town over. To me at the time, it was the 'city'. I mean, they had a Red Lobster and the library took up two whole stories of a large building and even had a separate room for children's books. It was my Six Flags. Because there were always other things to do when we took a trip into the city, I became very efficient in my library perusing. I always had a strategy. As soon as we passed through the doors, I would high-tail it into the children's section. If I had a list I would look for those books first, if I didn't have a list, I would quickly look for interesting titles or covers that sparked an interest. At times it felt like certain books would call to me more than others. (Don't judge me for judging books by their covers, we all do). I would pull them from the shelves and make a stack on the floor. Then, when the stack was about two feet tall, I would sit on the floor next to them, and take another look. I read the descriptions or thumbed through the illustrations and I made another stack. This stack could only be six books tall because that was the limit.
Six was how many books I was allowed to check out at one time. So the longer chapter books, the ones that I wanted to enjoy at my leisure, went into that pile. The most challenging part came next. There were always more than six books that I wanted in that pile. But I tried to make my choices quickly. Because once I settled on my selections I could use the rest of the time, until my mom came looking for me, reading. Maybe that was how I became a fast reader, I tried my best to make it through as many of the left behind books as I could.
Regardless, the six books only ever lasted me a week at most, before I was re-reading them. So I graduated to novels by the age of ten...and never stopped. I still love libraries. They are still magical places and important places. Perhaps even more so now that we can access e-books, audiobooks, and the all-encompassing internet. Still, for free. Still safe places for us all.
These are a few of my favorite books about libraries. Do you have more to recommend? What are your favorite library memories?
The Library Book by Susan Orlean - A fascinating book about the devastating 1986 fire in the Los Angeles Public Library along with both a look at historical and contemporary roles of community libraries.
The Midnight Library by Matt Haig - An instant favorite work of fiction for anyone who thinks of their life in chapters and their futures as unwritten.
Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library by Chris Grabenstein - For the kid in all of us that finds adventure and intrigue in the Dewey decimal system.
The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore by William Joyce and Joe Bluhm - A picture book that will give any book lover warm fuzzies and inspired an Academy Award winning animated short.
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