I took my daughter to the library early Saturday morning. This was my second trip in a very long time. I almost hate to admit it had been years since I had stepped foot in our local library.
I have a million excuses, some reasonable ones like their hours and my work hours don't coincide, I like to keep some of the books I read; others are not so reasonable: I simply have not made the time.
My daughter loves the kid section so she quickly settled in her space at the library and suggested I find something for me "to read" if I felt so inclined.
As I was walking amidst the rows of books, I discovered why I love libraries and how much I had missed them. There is something magical about that place, so much knowledge contained within those pages. As I browsed through the books, I began to wonder the history of each volume found on the shelves. Was it gift? Who donated it? What were they like?
I managed to find a couple of books and a couple of CDs to bring home with me, as did my daughter. We are making plans on going back next Saturday to get more books, and so she can get her very own library card.
I hope her love for books will remain as she gets older. I wonder if she feels the magic of the library the moment we walk in. I hope that magic remains with her forever.