…is what I feel like I have done this week.
See, I grew up in very small Okemah, Oklahoma.
When I say small, I really mean small. I graduated with a class of about 53 people. There are no stop lights. There is no WalMart, no McDonald’s.
When I was much younger, much, MUCH younger, the library was my favorite place. In fact, after a visit there with my Mom yesterday, I believe it still is.
A tiny public library in a tiny rural Oklahoma town is my happy place.
When we walked through the door, the smell of very old, very loved, and very well read books was instantly relaxing. With the exception of the newly added internet access area, the old building looked exactly like it has for at least 25 years.
The childrens’ area made me wish I was small enough to fit into one of the tiny rocking chairs so I could sit in front of the native rock fireplace (!!!!) and read Harriet the Spy for the 40985203598th time.
The huge dictionary that I always imagined contained every word ever thought up was still in its place at the end of a long shelf of books…. and I found as I explored further…
The entire Nancy Drew series was still located exactly where it has been ever since I could remember. I pulled a random title from the shelf, and could still remember the plot… I could remember the concern I had for my dear friend Nancy as she ended up in so many predicaments over the years, even though I KNEW that in the end, good would prevail and Nancy would return home unscathed so she could solve another exciting, yet not too dangerous, mystery the next time I returned to the library.
Here’s the book I picked up…
When I opened the front cover, there was still an old school library card….
With my signature and a due date from 1994.
It’s good sometimes to come home.