My Magical Library Life: 14 Tiny Stories

“I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve (or save) the world and a desire to enjoy (or savor) the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.” ― E. B. White

Oof. I feel you, E.B. White. But hear me out: perhaps one step toward saving something is to savor it — because when you love something, you are more apt to fight for its existence.

Apropos of everything … you know it’s National Library Week, right? I’m going to celebrate by sharing a few tiny, savory stories about my life with libraries. I’d love to hear yours, too.

1. Some of my earliest memories involve Saturday mornings with the fam at the Provo Public Library. Each sibling had a “library bag.” Remember those summer reading challenges? I felt so proud as I handed the librarian my completed bingo sheet in August.

2. Middle school was a rough time. I was just so awkward. The school’s librarians were always on the look-out for bookish kids who took refuge in their space. They invited me to be a TA and personally rearranged my schedule to make it happen. So for one period a day, I shelved books while chatting about books and life with these women. I wonder how many kids they rescued like this through the years?

3. After 8th grade, I got a summer bus pass for my birthday! There were only so many times I could go to the mall, so I began to chart out visits to every library in Utah and Salt Lake Valley. A librarian at the Orem Library noticed my frequent visits and invited me to be a volunteer. Hey, I already knew how to shelve books! It was my first “work experience” and helped me feel needed and useful at a critical time.

4. Just weeks into my freshman year at Boston University, a professor took our class on a tour of the old Boston Public Library. It felt like entering a temple of learning. Granted, I hadn’t traveled much as a kid, but I had never seen a building so mesmerizing — the marble lions, the John Singer Sargent murals, THE READING ROOM. The latter become my go-to study spot during finals, a reward for making it to the end of a semester.

5. My kids were born in Fort Worth, Texas. As a new mom (in a hot climate!), libraries were part of our weekly rhythm. We took free music classes at Benbrook branch. We attended storyhour every week at the Southwest branch. The kids loved pushing picture books into the return slot one-by-one-by-one before racing off to pick out more.

6. During our Texas years, we often spent a few weeks in the summer visiting grandpa on Martha’s Vineyard. The librarian at the tiny Chilmark library came to story time barefoot. Miss Kristen’s had long grey hair and a guitar. She sat cross-legged and sang a “welcome to the library” that welcomed each child by name.

7. One summer, we returned to discover Miss Kristen had passed away. My kids’ eyes grew wide with sadness. The new children’s librarian quickly got to know their names and interests, though, and when he found out they wanted to make a “beach museum” from random beach finds, he put together a stack of books to help them with their research. The next summer, he remembered their names and asked about their museum.

8. When we moved back to Massachusetts, I took the kids to get cards at the Holliston Public Library. The librarian took their pictures and pinned them to the “new card holder” wall in the children’s room. My kids beamed. “Oh,” the librarian said, “did you know that you can checkout discounted passes to museums and zoos?” And that sent us on a summer of exploring.

9. During the early days of COVID, I emailed this same library a list of topics that interested my six-year-old, and they put together a “mystery bag” filled with books they thought he might like for curbside pick-up.

10. Whole chunks of my books were written in the Wellesley Public Library, the Holliston Public Library, the Bacon Free Library (yes, that’s it’s real name), the Sherborn Library, and the Medfield Library. Libraries are the original co-working spaces.

11. Last week, as I worked in a library, I saw an older gentleman come in to return a mystery novel. He and the librarian chatted about it for 15 minutes — their own personal book club. He then asked for her next recommendation, which she had pre-checked out and ready to hand him. Clearly this was a ritual, one they both treasured.

12. Just yesterday, I spent the morning at a different library. While I wrote, I saw several seniors working on jigsaw puzzles, parents bringing toddlers to story time, folks accessing the public computers, a tutoring session, and lots of people of all ages browsing, reading, and studying. The front entryway is a rotating art gallery featuring local artists, and the listings of free classes and clubs fill a bulletin board. Libraries are community.

13. A couple of weeks ago, my daughter had an art class in the city but I had a presentation to give over Zoom at the same time. So I dropped her off, headed to the Boston Public Library and spoke to educators in Houston for an hour. Using the library’s free wi-fi. In a lovely soundproof room. For free.

14. Have any of you read Seven Day Magic by Edward Eager? I loved that book as a kid and am rereading it to my youngest right now. “When Susan opens a strange library book, she discovers it is about her and her friends, leading up to the moment when she opened the book. Beyond that, the pages are blank . . . waiting for the children to wish the book full of adventures.”

I always wanted to find Susan’s book in the stacks — but even without it, libraries have offered me a lifetime of magical moments.

Deborah

P.S.

365 Days of Wonder: Week 13

“Raising Awe-Seekers: How the Science of Wonder Helps Our Kids Thrive” comes out in NEXT MONTH! Here’s my awe diary this week.

Day 92:

I had been at my computer all day and didn't want to face making dinner and didn't want to take the dog out or do anything but chill. But I did take the dog out -- and ran into my neighbors out walking with their infant and their 2-year-old. Which is how I ended up sitting on the grass for 10 minutes helping a bright-eyed child stroke my dog's soft fur.

Day 93:

My 11yo said to me: "I heard someone say that Jelle [of Jelle's Marble Run] is super successful 'even though he is autistic.' I think it's more accurate to say that he makes these cool marble runs *because* he's autistic. It's just who he is and how his awesome brain works."

Day 94:

Day 94: The magnolias have bloomed in Boston.

Day 95:

I was carpooling a couple of teenagers, and one kid started to riff on how cool his mom is … ❤️😭

Day 96:

Three daffodils at the edge of my neighbor’s woods.

Day 97:

I spent the morning at a public library. While I wrote, I saw several seniors working on jigsaw puzzles, parents bringing toddlers to story time, folks accessing the public computers, a tutoring session, and lots of people of all ages browsing, reading, and studying. The front entryway is a rotating art gallery featuring local artists, and the listings of free classes and clubs fill the bulletin board.

Day 98:

Okay, so a friend just offered to reach out to the local libraries in our area to request that they purchase a copy of my book "Raising Awe-Seekers: How the Science of Wonder Helps Our Kids Thrive." And now I'm teary. Libraries + Friends = 2 things that make life better.