In Praise of Community Libraries
Places of refuge in this oftentimes cruel world
I can remember back to being 3 years old, walking to the library with my Mom. It was located in an old Victorian-style house, and the children’s section was on the second floor. The afternoon sun rested upon a cushioned window seat, where I would sit and gaze at picture books.
Once I learned to read, I visited the local library weekly, borrowing as many books at a time as was allowed.
I loved the All-of-a-Kind Family series, about a family of Jewish immigrants who lived on the Lower East-Side of New York City circa 1912. And, of course, Nancy Drew Mysteries, and the Little House on the Prairie series. (This was popular reading for girls in the 1960s.)
As an adult, I moved a lot, but I made sure to get a library card at every new location. Every library had a feeling of “home.”
When I lived in a drafty, old house, I would go to the library to read and keep warm. When the temps got hot and humid, I would go to the library to cool off and spend an…
