|When I was a girl, the library was housed in the old farm house|
Here’s the thing, it is National Library Week. Please visit your local library. I’m sure they have many events scheduled to celebrate. I have the honor of participating in two events to help celebrate libraries in my community. I love libraries. Don’t you? Do you have a favorite library? When I was a girl I could usually be found crawling the stacks of the Seller’s Memorial Library in Upper Darby. It truly was a haven, a safe place for me. A place of wonder and delight and discovery. It is where I discovered Ray Bradbury, Sherlock Holmes, Harriet the Spy, Virginia Woolf, Mark Twain, Robert Heinlein, Tolkien, Hemingway, E.B. White, etc. etc. etc. I remember sitting in the window seat with a book in hand and staring out at a rainy day thinking about what it would be like to have a book I had written in the public library. It seemed so far away but a dream I refused to give up on. I dreamt about returning to the library one day and reading from my book. Gee, it’s a dream come true. I am often astonished at this. I thought having a book in the library would be the greatest of all delights. And it is truly. Truly a delight. But something happened the other day that is even better. I was in the Youth Room of a local library and I saw a kid pick up a copy of Cake. She kind of looked through it and then sat at a table and started to read it. My heart, needless to say, sped up just a bit as I watched her turn the pages. A few minutes later she brought the book to the counter and checked it out. Now that’s the stuff dreams are made of.