LIBRARY MAGIC

A few weeks ago, Collin, whose snaggle-toothed grin does indeed stretch from ear to ear, received his first library card.  It's from Riverside County, California, and more valuable than...than all the tea in China! 

His momentous event immediately took me back--not to my first library card (I don't think we had such a thing back in the day), but to my first library.  Dodge City Public Library which, thanks to Andrew Carnegie, was built in 1905, and existed as a veritable institition by the time I came along.  It was a nearly square little red-brick building perched on the corner of Second and Spruce.  Its crowning feature was a beautiful, but notoriously leaky dome.  Inside was all cream colored plaster highlighted by elegant dark wood trim.  Chest high shelving hugged the exterior walls while heavy tall stacks held center court in the large browsing room.  The design was an open plan, more or less, with fat plaster pillars supporting the roof as well as hinting at divisions of subject matter, age, serious study, subdued conversation or surreptitious hand-holding.  (Only in the reference section.)  I remember a fireplace or two, but never a fire.  Smallish stained glass windows were scattered here and there, contributing to the slightly sacred feel of the space.  And always and everywhere was the unique scent of books...new books, old books, leather bound or heavy cardboard covers.   Hovering near every over-stuffed chair and dusty corner was the magical sense of anticipation that wafted from the first page of every freshly opened book.  Where would the magic carpet fly and who would I be when I stepped off? 

That's exactly what I wish for Collin.  I wish him quiet afternoons tracking through a long ago Kentucky forest with Daniel Boone.  He'll definitely need an extra coat and a furry dog when he explores the far northwest territories of Canada, but he'll warm up quickly near the equater as he sails to Africa.  He can fly to the farthest solar system, descend through the deepest ocean, climb the highest mountain, and still be home in time for dinner. 

Mastercard has it wrong.  This little green card?  It's the priceless one!