Friday, March 8, 2013
I recently connected on Facebook with a long-lost and much-missed college friend. We exchanged several messages about our jobs, family, and where we are now. He gave a quick summary about his young children, then asked about my family. I devoted 2-3 sentences to each of my kids, describing their personalities, hobbies, and quirks.
I realize now that I could have described my son much more simply: He is a nine-year-old boy that librarians allow to take home books not yet in the system.
This happens at his school library not infrequently. So much so that I'd stop noticing it any longer. As soon as my son spies a new shipment of books sitting at the librarian's desk, he's at it like a kid on Christmas. Because he is in the library nearly every day and has always been responsible about caring for and returning books, the school librarian will often hand him a new selection before it's been sealed in cellophane, assigned a shelf, and entered into the system. The first time this happened, I was surprised, but I assumed such things happen at private school, especially when the student's classroom is right down the hall from the library.
This week, it happened at our local public library. Our library has a Teen Room, and after browsing the upstairs children's section, my son likes to check out the comics and graphic novels in the Teen Room. The Teen Room librarian now knows us by name. Last time we were there, my son inquired if she had any additional books of a particular comic series. She found one she'd just grabbed off the for-sale shelf and handed it to him. No cellophane. No call number. No record that it had ever been in the library. She trusted him to return it to her in good condition, and I'm fairly certain he will.
That's just who he is--a trustworthy boy who loves books. My bookworthy boy. (So proud.)