"Once Upon a Place to Read"

There was a place I loved to go as a child; it held a myriad of stories in worn pages, bound in leather and cloth covers. It beckoned me to come and play. It promised adventure, laughter, exploration and magic-- and it was all a child could imagine.

The building was made of large stone blocks; a refuge from the world, it protected, it taught and it comforted. An outlet to all things imagination could conjure and in those bound pages, I found friends--characters that made me laugh, cry and learn.

My hometown library was built in 1904 and it was architecturally beautiful. It had thirty or more long, slate steps leading to its massive wooden, double doors and lion heads were carved onto the building’s façade on either side of those massive doors. Tall windows let in the sun and the twenty foot high ceilings felt like it could hold the world inside…and for me it did.

After school, nearly every day, I entered those large oak doors and felt the power of discovery at the first whiff of the old tomes, enticingly stacked on immense wooden shelves. I learned to love reading there because I could choose what to read. The stories the school‘s teachers forced us to read were horrid affairs but here, where I had thousands of books at my disposal, I found the magical journeys a book could take you on.

I also realized how my understanding of the world around me was formed in those early years, within those sturdy walls and with all those amazing stories to guide me.

It began for me, at the age of five, reading all the Dr. Seuss easy readers. That led the way to Charles Schultz and my never ending love of all things "Peanuts" began - from Schultz I discoverd Edward Eager then walkedd  over to Twain then dabbled in Poe…From Poe to Bronte to Alcott and to Austen. There is no true connection in the progression of materials I read -  it was all part of my growing love for reading.

The authors and stories changed as I grew but at twelve, Edward Eager was my favorite author. I read, Knight’s Castle, Half Magic, The Time Garden, Magic or Not, The Well-Wishers, Seven-Day Magic and ‘Magic by the Lake’ all in one magnificent summer and “Magic by the Lake,” became my ‘forever’ favorite. I have a dog-eared copy of this book still sitting on my bookshelf and I’ve read it to my own children when they were very little. I cannot tell you how satisfying it was to watch their faces light with interest and know they were just as enthralled with this old story as I had been…and honestly, it was an old book when I first read it.

My children are grown now but the book sits there waiting for grandchildren to delight in its pages of magic but on occasion when I dust, I will find myself flipping through a chapter because I need that childish belief in something more than reality, and it never fails to enchant me.

I know as a writer I will never match the talents of those revered authors bound in glorious leather in that long, sadly lost to the bulldozer, library of my youth but I understand the love those talented authors had for words. I share their affinity for them and the happiness in creating a new story. I may never know fame but it matters not.

When I write, a world powered by my imagination appears and I step in and enjoy my time there., feeding my creative soul with possibilities. This magic started the first time I walked into that amazing library...when I opened that first book...and the whole world opened up for me to explore.

the photo of the Libray is free to use on the NYPL digital site.