I love books.
Every single one of the smelly, musty, antique little blips in time. There is something so refreshing about putting down the blackberry and Wii remote and flipping the traveled pages of a good Austen piece.
I met a little girl today that was checking out 12 books and she looked only about 7yrs old. She was laughing and talking about how much she loved school and how her and her mom read every night after dinner. Every night, she stressed. I had such an immediate power popping flashback to my own trips to the library as a kid. Growing up down the street from the literally, two room town library, I would ride my bike barefoot down through town and take the first flying left over the railroad tracks. Susie, the librarian and only worker for the entire town of Indian Trail's library system, would meet me at the door with a grin and a handful of new books.
There was an old yellow beanbag chair in the back room where all the kid's books were and I would sit there for hours and hours reading before scooping up a new pile of fresh, untapped words and peddling home.
As I got older, there was a lot about my childhood that I tried to forget and a lot that I suceeded in doing so but that small yellow library and that small little librarian are such stoic flashlights in my fuzzy, broken memory. Today, the yellow building has been converted to the police station, the new library is down the street and is almost 3x the size, and Susie....well, I work with her now.
Guess you can't say you never make an impact on anyone.
