The Library

Remember filling these cards out when you went to the library? A couple weeks ago, some of the third graders thought they would be helpful by taking the cards out of a bunch of books and bringing them to me. Seeing these cards really brought me back to when I was younger. That's when my love for the library started.

I don't remember my first time I ever went to the library, but I somehow think I was probably in a stroller. Going to the library was a weekly trip we took as a family, usually without my mom. (I think this trip served the "get the kids out of the house" purpose that gave my mom a few minutes to get back some of sanity.)

So there were the five of us kids, along with my dad, walking the five or so blocks to the library, clutching our library cards. When we would get there and pull open the big heavy doors, my dad would put out his cigar and set it on a ledge just inside the door to retrieve later. We didn't think anything of it, because we were so entralled with the shiny brass banister that led up the stairs. It was better than any jungle gyms at the park, becaue it wasn't made for playing.

Oh, and the smell of the library. A little bit paper, a little bit mint, a little bit street fumes. It was mandatory that we whispered in the library. Even the librarians whispered when they helped us. Even now in the school library, I get a bit ruffled when kids talk to me in regular voices. I always thought it was a rule that shouldn't be broken. Or else.

I could spend hours and hours in the children's section at our library. It was tucked in a corner on the second floor, and I remember slowly walking along the shelves looking at the colorful covers of the books. I would gravitate toward the known favorites like Dr. Seuss and P.D. Eastman, but also choose a few new ones to add to the bunch. Inevitably, I would have too many to carry, and I would need to make tough choices about which ones to put back.

I marveled at the big books that my dad would get from the hidden shelves on the other dimly-lit floors. I loved looking at all of those big books on the shelves, their spines dark green, red, black or blue.

I was exposed to so many different types of people at the library too. The homeless people who warmed up by coming to the library, holding up newspapers in front of their faces while they snuck in a nap. Or adults that my dad would know who would peer down at me and say things like, "Oh, you're getting so big. Are you going to read ALL of those books?" I would smile and nod, and think, Why would they ask such a silly question? Of course I am going to read all of these books. Tonight.

When I got older and had to do research for school projects, I learned how to use the card catalogs and microfeish machines. The latter was like a toy to me, and I loved the way that it whirled and whizzed when I pressed the buttons.

My how things have changed. The other day I went to pick up a book at our library. I looked for the book online, reserved it online, and it was waiting to be picked up in a matter of hours. All I had to do was go in, find the book under my name, take it to the counter, and scan my library card and the book. I was out of there in a matter of minutes. I didn't have to say a word to anyone. But if I did, I would whisper.