Books were my gateway to worlds different from my own. I clearly recall the day I got my Very Own Library Card. That small piece of yellow cardboard was more of a ticket to freedom than my driver’s license would be almost 12 years later.
That card meant I could wander the children’s section untethered while my parents chose their own volumes from the adult section.
The West Irondequoit Public Library looks very small to me now, but as a child it held all the wonders I could ever imagine.
I started taking The Poo to the library one hot summer day last year when we were looking for a cool place to rest for a minute during a walk. The children’s room was filled with toys much like the ones we had at home. But, ah! In the library they looked completely different.
When we moved to Urbana, IL so my husband could pursue a doctorate, one of the first places we scouted out was the library. The children’s room is wonderful here, and we go at least once a week to play, meet friends and get new books.
At first I selected The Poo’s reading material, working from authors I enjoyed as a child and those that came recommended. Checking out new books every week is now such a part of our routine that The Poo runs through the stacks herself, pulling picture books and handing them to me for our pile.
I love the sight of her, small and determined, yanking our heavy “liberry bag” into the middle of the family room. “Mommy, read to me?” are words that warm my heart.
After my father died in 2004, I had a hard time concentrating. Reading was particularly difficult for me. That escape hatch slammed shut and I was left alone with my heartache. I longed for the relief of someone else’s story, when mine was so very sad.
Only recently do I have the time and energy to again sit and read. I went through four novels over Christmas, and I stayed up until 1 a.m. last night finishing the devastating new Cormac McCarthy novel, The Road. The story reached inside me and squeezed my heart until I wept.
Smiling through my tears, I turned out the light, once again grateful for the simple power of words beautifully strung together.
[tags]library, love of learning, read aloud, picture books, Cormac McCarthy, literacy[/tags]
Photo by Trevor Manternach via Flickr.
3 responses so far ↓
Megin Hatch // Jan 10, 2007 at 1:43 pm
Yum, books. We frequent the library regularly, too. I had a similar reaction when my own father died. I suddenly couldn’t read anything of consequence. I think I still read like mad, but it was all brain candy. I still read a lot of brain candy.
But the best book I’ve read in the last 10 years? The Kite Runner. That was one of my “how can I ever read another book ? Nothing will compare to this one.” books. Hmmm, nothing has. Extremely Close and Incredibly Loud was amazing- but also amazingly difficult and it led to an extremely permeating and persistent sadness.
I love children’s books. I love rhyming children’s books. I love illustrations. I am thrilled that my children love to read love visiting the library.
Becky // Jan 13, 2007 at 4:04 pm
I LOVE the Library! In fact, I work in a Library (http://www.CincinnatiLibrary.org) and feel so priviledged to do so! And I try to take my girls there as often as possible (people I work with think I’m crazy for coming to the Library on my day off!)… we try to go once a week, but the past couple months have been crazy with moving, holidays, etc and we’re lucky if we’ve been able to go once a month.
LOVE reading! Though, I don’t get to do reading of my own very much these days, reading to my girls is the next best thing and they love books, too!
YAY for Libraries!
Stu Mark // Jan 16, 2007 at 4:44 am
Great Post!
As a devotee of the printed page, I was so glad to read this post. In our house, we have a certain room dubbed “The Library”, which has no tv or other distraction. It has a stereo and lots of bookcases, overflowing with the favorites of our collection.
I’ve spent less time reading printed material and more time reading the interwebs, but I want to change that. This post really helped me see that, so Thanks!
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