Celebrating Libraries

This is National Library Week, so it seemed fitting to celebrate libraries and what they offer us. When the internet became a big thing in peoples' lives, it was said over and over that libraries will die now. It didn't happen as they seem to be alive and well. One reason is that librarians did not sit back and let it happen. Instead, they entered the technology world in numerous ways.

They opened tech centers where people could use computers for free and also attend instructional classes on using computers. They have online libraries where books can be downloaded onto a Kindle or Nook or your computer. Libraries have websites where patrons can do various things--from checking to see if the library has a book to put a hold request to getting information on story hours for children. 

I have used libraries since I was old enough to print my name on the application for a library card. I'm a fast reader and would never want to purchase all the books I read. The library in my town is one of my favorite places to be. I have often referred to it as my second home

I decided to post photos of various libraries. When I started to look, there were so many that I had a difficult time selecting only a few. Maybe the photos here will give an idea of the many kinds of libraries to be found. The photo at the top is actually the outside of the parking garage next to the Kansas City, MO main library. Someone had a fantastic idea, didn't they? Imagine turning a corner in your car and coming face to face with that spectacular wall!

Libraries are places where kids can 'hang out' after school or on weekends. Lots of adults do the same. Many libraries offer various types of programs for kids. Some sponsor book clubs and bring in speakers, often authors.

Who is the most famous librarian? Why Marian, of course, in The Music Man. It's the only movie I can think of where the librarian was 'glamorized.' Sadly, some think of librarians as the stereotype we've been fed for years--colorless, timid, mousy kinds of people. Not so. Librarians come in all shapes, sizes and personalities just like every other occupation. I find them ready to assist whenever needed. We thank our service men and women and rightly so, but how about thanking your librarian the next time you visit your library?

Some folks are fortunate enough to have a home library, one room filled with books and a comfy place to read. Most of us have bookcases here and there in our homes. At least, the readers do. We all collect books as we move through life. Some we have purchased, others have been gifts. We need a place to keep them, so we devise all kinds of spots in our homes.

One of the smallest, most innovative libraries I have seen was in a small village in rural England. One of the old, red telephone booths had been turned into the village library. Ken happened to see it when on an early morning walk, and he took me to see it before we left that area. 

Take a few minutes today to ponder the role libraries have played in your life. 

What Libraries Have Meant To Me

Not only the doors of learning are open but a library user is guaranteed hours and hours of pure joy reading fiction, too. Today, I'm reposting a personal essay I wrote about my feelings about libraries. If you haven't visited your local library recently, put it on your To-Do List for this week.

My Second Home

In addition to my regular residence, I have a second home. My mother
introduced this special dwelling to me when I was only six years old.  She held my hand, and we walked several blocks in warm autumn sunshine, stopping only when we approached a square brick building. Graced by trees and shrubs and a patio-like courtyard, it had a certain elegance and air of importance that I recognized, even at so young an age.

We entered the building and stepped into a cool, quiet atmosphere. The first thing to meet the eye was a large, wrap-around desk that extended across the entryway. A stout woman stood behind the desk, gray hair severely drawn back and caught in a small bun. No make-up adorned her face, and there wasn't a smile there either. I moved instinctively closer to my mother, my hand nestled in hers, until I looked up into the woman's eyes. What I saw made me smile at her. Blue eyes, the shade of cornflowers, sparkled with a smile of their own, softening her otherwise stern appearance. Soon, the smile in her eyes spread to her wide mouth.
 
"We've come to get a library card," my mother announced. The woman had the application card ready in a flash and passed it over to me to sign my name. I proudly printed it for her and slid the card back across the desk. Not only could I sign my name, I could read, as well. Dick and Jane and their dog, Spot had shown me the way.

"Alright, Nancy," the woman said as she read from the form, "come with me."

She came around the desk and offered her hand, saying, “I am Miss Maze.” I grasped the hand this corseted woman in the black dress offered. My expectations were great, and I was not to be disappointed, for this kind woman led me to the Children's Department and patiently showed me all the books that stood on shelves like soldiers at attention. She spoke with wonder and awe as she explained the kinds of books that rested before us, making me eager to read every one.

It was a land of enchantment, a ticket to exotic places.  My mother and Miss Maze introduced me that day to the fascinating world of books and libraries, and thus began a love affair that continues to this day. I became a voracious reader and still am.

I was the child whose nose was always in a book. When old enough, I walked to the library alone at least weekly, sometimes more than that. I strolled past the conservatory that was home to a tropical rain forest, then on by a city park, across the railroad tracks and down a cinder path that ran behind the train platform. By the time I reached that cinder path, my pace increased, even though I carried a stack of books. I was in a hurry to reach the riches awaiting me at the library.

The grade school I attended had a separate library, which we could use when we reached fourth grade. I visited it regularly but also continued going to the public library. I felt at home in both places and felt much the same when I moved on to the high school library, then one on my college campus.  The libraries provided necessary information for all the papers I wrote during those years, as well as hours and hours of entertainment, as I read book upon book. The building I had frequented near my home during my growing up years was renamed when my old friend, the librarian, died.  The South Branch became the Adele Maze Branch Library, and every time I saw the plaque bearing her name, I thought of those cornflower blue, smiling eyes, and her kindness to me and other children through the years.  How I wish I could thank her for what she gave to so many.

During the years since I left my home community, I have made a habit of making a visit to the library one of the top priorities whenever moving to a new place. Within the first week, I have fled the packing boxes and sought out what has become a second home to me. Over 50 years of marriage, we have lived in five different towns, and, in all of them, the library has been a sanctuary and a haven.

Now, when I open the big glass door to my local library and walk through the atrium to the book-lined shelves, I feel just like I did when Miss Maze took my hand and led me to the children's books. I am happy and contented, as though loving arms have surrounded me with a great big hug. Best of all, I still feel an exciting anticipation of the unknown treasure waiting for me amongst the volumes that line the shelves in my second home.

I am so grateful that I had a mother who led me to one of the greatest treasures in my life, the public library.


 

To Celebrate National Library Week

Adele Maze Branch Library Oak Park, IL

This is National Library Week. Today, I'm posting a personal essay I wrote about what the library has meant to me throughout my life. The photo is of the very first library I ever went to and continued to use for all of my growing-up years in suburban Chicago.

My Second Home
by Nancy Julien Kopp

 

In addition to my regular residence, I have a second home. My mother introduced this special dwelling to me when I was only six years old.  She held my hand, and we walked several blocks in warm autumn sunshine, stopping only when we approached a square brick building. Graced by trees and shrubs and a patio-like courtyard, it had a certain elegance and air of importance that I recognized, even at so young an age.

We entered the building and stepped into a cool, quiet atmosphere. The first thing to meet the eye was a large, wrap-around desk that extended across the entryway. A stout woman stood behind the desk, gray hair severely drawn back and caught in a small bun. No make-up adorned her face, and there wasn't a smile there either. I moved instinctively closer to my mother, my hand nestled in hers, until I looked up into the woman's eyes. What I saw made me smile at her. Blue eyes, the shade of cornflowers, sparkled with a smile of their own, softening her otherwise stern appearance. Soon, the smile in her eyes spread to her wide mouth.

 

"We've come to get a library card," my mother announced. The woman had the application card ready in a flash and passed it over to me to sign my name. I proudly printed it for her and slid the card back across the desk. Not only could I sign my name, I could read, as well. Dick and Jane and their dog, Spot had shown me the way.

 

"Alright, Nancy," she said as she read from the form, "come with me."

She came around the desk and offered her hand, saying, “I am Miss Maze.” I grasped the hand this corseted woman in the black dress offered. My expectations were great, and I was not to be disappointed, for this kind woman led me to the Children's Department and patiently showed me all the books that stood on shelves like soldiers at attention. She spoke with wonder and awe as she explained the kinds of books that rested before us, making me eager to read every one.

It was a land of enchantment, a ticket to exotic places.  My mother and Miss Maze introduced me that day to the fascinating world of books and libraries, and thus began a love affair that continues to this day. I became a voracious reader and still am.

I was the child whose nose was always in a book. When old enough, I walked to the library alone at least weekly, sometimes more than that. I strolled past the conservatory that was home to a tropical rainforest, then on by a city park, across the railroad tracks and down a cinder path that ran behind the train platform. By the time I reached that cinder path, my pace increased, even though I carried a stack of books. I was in a hurry to reach the riches awaiting me at the library.

The grade school I attended had a separate library, which we could use when we reached fourth grade. I visited it regularly but also continued going to the public library. I felt at home in both places and felt much the same when I moved on to the high school library, then one on my college campus.  The libraries provided necessary information for all the papers I wrote during those years, as well as hours and hours of entertainment, as I read book upon book. The building I had frequented near my home during my growing up years was renamed when my old friend, the librarian, died.  The South Branch became the Adele Maze Branch Library, and every time I saw the plaque bearing her name, I thought of those cornflower blue, smiling eyes, and her kindness to me and other children through the years.  How I wish I could thank her for what she gave to so many. 

During the years since I left my home community, I have made a habit of making a visit to the library one of the top priorities whenever moving to a new place. Within the first week, I have fled the packing boxes and sought out what has become a second home to me. Over 50 years of marriage, we have lived in five different towns, and, in all of them, the library has been a sanctuary and a haven.

Now, when I open the big glass door to my local library and walk through the atrium to the book-lined shelves, I feel just like I did when Miss Maze took my hand and led me to the children's books. I am happy and contented, as though loving arms have surrounded me with a great big hug. Best of all, I still feel an exciting anticipation of the unknown treasure waiting for me amongst the volumes that line the shelves in my second home.

I am so grateful that I had a mother who led me to one of the greatest treasures in my life, the public library.