My memories of the library as a child are being a fugitive (we stayed with a fine), going with Charleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnne as she struggled to find something to occupy Buffy, Leaky, myself and a few, random, tag along, neighborhood kids on summer days and the Cobbs Creek branch being hot.
I really didn’t get the obsessive love of reading until later, but I do remember how exciting it was to find a new treasure, to open up a book and get sucked into a far away world and to lose hours getting lost inside a book. I can remember my mom and Charleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnnne reading to us. I also remember sneaking to read more (I burned my arm on a naked light bulb one night trying to stay up and read. I eventually had to come clean to my mom when she noticed the ooze of pus from my sleeve. Yuck!).
Here’s hoping that I can have the impact on some child as experienced by Nikki Giovanni.
My First Memory (of Librarians)
by Nikki Giovanni
This is my first memory:
A big room with heavy wooden tables that sat on a creaky
A line of green shades—bankers’ lights—down the center
Heavy oak chairs that were too low or maybe I was simply
For me to sit in and read
So my first book was always big
In the foyer up four steps a semi-circle desk presided
To the left side the card catalogue
On the right newspapers draped over what looked like
a quilt rack
Magazines face out from the wall
The welcoming smile of my librarian
The anticipation in my heart
All those books—another world—just waiting
At my fingertips.
Considering some recommendations,