My Library, My Refuge

I remember the first time I went to the library at school. I was in the first grade and I was totally and wonderfully enthralled. Surrounding me were all the books I could ever want. As a little one just starting out, I hurriedly learned to read so I could explore the library and all of it’s secrets. 

I loved books. I mean I really LOVed books. 

It was in books that I could become anyone or anything. I read the classics. I read biographies and autobiographies. Mystery, adventure, and intrigue….all contained between the covers of book. 

And when I didn’t have a library book, I read the encyclopedias at home from cover to cover. From A to Z…and then the new additions that updated them. Medical books about human ailments , books of poems, and even newspapers. There was a whole world out there ready to explore.

In our little town of Van Horn Texas was our city library. In the 60’s and 70’s I frequented the aisles. I would walk the many blocks just to get to walk in the door.

The library was in the building that had housed the old elementary school. Red adobe exterior. Stylized flourishes around the main door. And old wood floors that were marred and scarred from decades of use. When you walked, the floor creaked. 

The shelves sagged with the weight of the books. And there was this smell…a wonderful smell of old books, dust, and probably a little bit of paper rot. But it was a smell that would immediately make me smile. 

The librarian and I became fast friends   Even though I was only in third grade, she made exceptions for me. I was able to check out ten books rather than the two book limit for most kids. She also let me check out history books and biographies from the adult section. In order to have these privelages she would question me on the books I had read. She was also amazed that I went for the “word” books and not picture books. 

Clara Barton, Florence Nightingale, Madame Curie…they inspired me to be curious about caring for others and the mysteries of our bodies. The Wright brothers and Alexander Graham Bell made me want to be an inventor. General George Washington made me want to be a leader. And so many more opened up the possibilities for this little girl, in a very little town, in the middle of the desert. 

Then there were the fiction books. Robinson Crusoe, Jekyl and Hyde, and Sherlock Holmes all became friends as I read their adventures. I was there when I opened up my book. I could see and smell and feel the environment of the story before me. 

I could usually be found in the back corner of the library, sitting on the floor, surrounded by the books I so loved, with a stack of books beside me. Usually the Librarian would have to come find me to let me know she was closing and it was time to checkout. For me, she would bring large paper bags so I could easily carry my treasures home. 

Refuge is an appropriate word for both books and library. Both gave me a way to escape the hard reality of my young life. In books, if there were arguments, they were resolved in the matter of a page or two. Heartaches usually weren’t in the books I read then…challenges yes. Heartaches no. And even if I was facing a wild beast between the pages of my book, I wasn’t afraid in there. It was outside my book that fear was real. 

I miss the wonder and uniqueness of getting to explore the worlds I was able to go to. I think we’ve lost a little bit by not sitting on the floor in the back of the library. 

Books. My refuge from reality.