Thank you so much for writing. It means a great deal to me, to read your words and feel like I’ve brought to life a wonderful memory of an exceptional person–someone you were fortunate enough to love, and be loved by.

When I sat down to write this post, I went to the library. My old table is still there. As is the clock, and the shelves, and feel of the place, just as I knew it, so many years ago. Let me tell you, I could see and hear your mother (your grandmother, Rebecca) as clearly as if she were standing beside me.

A wonderful thing about memories: the most important ones never leave us. Lovely gift, that.

Last month, my wife and I brought down boxes of books from our attic. Some of them we’d had since our daughter was a baby (she’s finishing up eighth grade now, a little older than I was when I met Winifred). Since we’re knit-picky about such things, almost all of our books were still like-new. With the help of our children, we sorted them into two stacks: Books that were too precious to let go, and books we would donate to the library. By day’s end, more than 100 books were in our library stack, most of them early-readers.

I dropped them off behind the circulation desk the next day. The library will keep what they want, and sell the rest. Either way, the books will benefit Greenville Public Library.

I think Winifred would be pleased.

You wrote about my mother. Your words brought forth all sorts of memories from my own childhood. She loved books and reading and people. And, passed on those loves to so many others, including her children. And, I love being reminded, through your perspective, that each of us touches others, in ways we cannot know at the time. For that I thank you for your recollections and the story. (It came to me in snail mail from a treasured friend of my Mom’s. Another who knew Mom had found it and sent it to her. And, in that way, she continues to touch. I thank you. Winifred’ s daughter, Linda

I seem to be to agree with most of your ideas and beliefs and this post is no different. entirely

Thank you for any wonderful website and I hope you keep up the excellent function. If you do I will carry on to checked out it.

Have a very great day.

Sounds like your area has progressive libraries with exceptional people at the helm. Quite a blessing, that.

If you’re a writer as a well as a reader–or you’re just interested in the creative side of poetry–there’s a wonderful book called Poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge. It shines. And so does Wooldridge.

That reminds me: I haven’t read her follow-up book, Foolsgold.

Time for a trip to the library…

And I have to admit, I have a small library at work, books I purchased at our used book sale that I didn’t want to take home. Now people come and look for lunch time reading material.

For a long time, the mall at Alton, Ill., had a library outpost. It was a strange sight, stepping into a mall, seeing a library. It felt out of place. But I liked it for that very reason. I was sad to see it leave.

Dru, I’d forgotten how much I owed to that building–and the people inside–until I wrote the blog. Quite a lot, as it turns out.

Elizabeth, I love that your main character is a librarian. I think she sees the library in much the same way as Mrs. Huffman. A library isn’t a tomb for books. It’s a safe haven, and a place for communities to congregate.

Kate, A library as your apartment….that’s an awesome idea. I think many of us spend a lifetime building that very thing.

Cheryl, Agreed! Our library hosts readings, displays community artifacts, runs a column in our community newspaper, and loans fishing tackle during the summer months. I’ve read that, in larger communities, some libraries host special event overnight lock-ins for parents and kids.