Some of my fondest memories of childhood are accompanying my mother to the library, where she would procure books for the week to read on her bus trips to the city. However, the library is also the scene where my first publically devastating event occurred. I had failed to return my books to the school library on time and was made an example of by the head librarian. "It seems some students, like Erica, think they can keep their books forever," she said, or something to that effect.
The event left my eight-year-old self feeling about two-inches tall, and my view of librarians was tinged (I likened them thereon in to those unfortunate women in Witches). Proving that ridicule doesn't necessarily do the trick; I still return my books mostly past their due date. Thankfully, my local librarian Carol-Anne is more forgiving. She is also very creative. The above is a vintage installation she tied together on a shoe-string budget. The type-writer was a gift from her parents bestowed when she was a wee girl. Presents like that can set a child upon a rewarding life path.
And so can taking them to the library – 'tis a gift to enjoy reading; better still to know where to find and borrow good books.