When I was a child, I remember my Mom walking with me into the large public library that was in the next town over. Our town just wasn´t big enough at the time to have a big library... so Mom took the time to invest in us and the whole family by importing books from the library and taking us there to visit.
Somethings we can learn by hearing and somethings I learn by osmosis. I learned to love libraries by the time I spent soaking it all in. The words on the pages have a multitude of tiny voices, that shout ¨come hither....we have much to talk to you about..¨ The clean couches and spotless floors were always inviting, sometimes imposing, but always a place I wanted to be.
We learned how to search for books, how to use the card catalogues housed in antique looking wooden cases. We began to understand the power of ¨alphabetical order¨ and the Dewey decimal system. We enjoyed watching the clerks use the clicking machines to officially log our ¨borrows¨.
The city that the big library was in, also had a concert size grand piano in a small venue in the basement down a winding marble stair case. It became a place I would visit for recitals or Kiwanis festivals. I recall usually placing 3rd place in the piano. That mystical marble stair case was the stuff that dreams are made of....my dress shoes made tapping sounds upon each step.
In middle age, there comes more time to just think and ponder one´s own life and the lives that came before it.
My late Mom was born in Holland, and immigrated to Canada with her siblings and parents when she was only 12 years old. My Mom struggled with adapting to the Canadian school system, although literature and creative writing became her passion...not because it was easy, but because it beckoned. I am sure that Mom wished that college or some other kind of higher learning had come at an earlier age, but when it did arrive, later in life , years after having 3 children, the victory was sweet. The lack of early formal higher education did not prevent my Mom from pursuing growth and knowledge, no matter the cost. Mom was willing to pay the price of time and effort and inconvenience. Mom spent good hard earned dollars on the books she learned to love. She never resented the financial cost of supporting the authors she valued. A great book, was of equal or greater value than a great concert. Learning to recall her favourite authors´ names and their best book titles was part of that legacy.
When Mom passed, we were able to bless those who attended the funeral, with a copy of book of poetry that Mom published. Perhaps that love for the written word and the creative process could be passed down to more folks than just her children and grandchildren.
Mom didn´t take education for granted. Books were life. A new book was more precious than the latest fashion or a fancy watch.
I look back and am more deeply grateful for the time I was given at libraries. And it wasn´t even that I was dropped off there. Mom´s life epitomized a love for learning and a profound respect for those who carried knowledge. Learning was not limited to classrooms or sunday school. Learning was part of travelling and part of every day life.
Pretty much all the time, Mom was in a state of wonder and highly impressed by something someone else knew. Perhaps Mom didn´t realize how much was taught to us just by her choices, and actions and the environment that was curated in our home. It wasn´t perfect, but it was rich and colourful.
I was talking about the public library in our city some time ago, just to another regular member of my current city. The spaced out look on their face....and non interested vibe I sensed took me aback. I had forgotten how little many adults really respect a great library system. I had forgotten how much we take ours for granted.
What we don´t celebrate diminishes. So, I will do my part to celebrate all things ¨library-ish¨. I will celebrate borrowing books with their new policy that cancelled late fees. I will celebrate how they do extra research for me, at no charge, to help find books I am seeking at other libraries across Ontario. They have fetched these interlibrary loaner books for me several times and without complaint regarding my plethora of interests and curious pursuits. I hope they know how much I am grateful. I try to give encouraging feedback when they send me surveys or invite my comments.
Public libraries in Ontario, and I would assume, all across Canada are funded by taxpayer money. I am assuming that generous benefactors also play a large part in funding the luxuries I see across my region´s libraries. There seems to be no end to what they offer, the services they are willing to undertake to serve our towns and cities and the money that they are willing to invest to support these resources. And then there are the well educated staff that take care of and dispense these resources. Most of them are kind, and all of them are hard working.
If any of you who read my humble blog, are ever in a position to give a donation of money or books or more to your local public library, I hope you will do so. It may feel like a gift given in silence, solemn and un-exciting. But these gifts grow and develop a life of their own for years to come and generations to come.
For those of you, who may work at a library, or volunteer there, I want to send my sincere Canadian thank you. Thank you for the time and quiet earnest work that is done to keep things flowing smoothly. I do not take this access for granted and hope I never will.
Peace, my bookish friends.
Carla.
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