During the summer my mother used to pack us all up in the station wagon every other Wednesday and take us to the library. It was a magical place, not only for the air conditioning, which we didn’t have at home, and the fascinating carpets in the children’s reading room. It was wonderful because we got to pick out books to take home. We could peruse shelf after shelf of colorful pictures and printed words that opened new worlds to me. It was my favorite day. Wednesday morning always dawned with a little extra sunshine. It was torture waiting until ten when the library opened. I don’t remember at what age I started begging for my own magic card that would allow me access to so many books but I was eight when I received it.
Ever since then libraries have been a part of my life. Before I move one of the first things I do is find the closest or biggest library in the area. I may not be able to tell which way is north but I can sniff out a library pretty darn quick. Actually it usually finds me. We’ll be driving around and there it will be, shinning in all its glory. OK, it’s a government building, they usually aren’t glorious. At least on the outside.
Don’t get me wrong I love to buy books too, but my budget could never keep up with the amount I read and the library gives me the option to test drive books. To find books to add to my collection that I will cherish and read over and over again.
It’s summer now, school is out and every Wednesday I feel I should be on my way to the library. I take my son on Fridays though, that’s when they have story time. Really it doesn’t matter which day we go as long as I can give him the same wonderful memories I have and an abiding love of books.