Not Your Everyday Librarian

When you wake with a smile, every day is a good one. When you love your job, it isn’t work. When you are happy with who you are, you will always be yourself. Did I fit a mold? Oh, no! I guess my taste, my clothes, my hair, and my life was a bit eclectic. Some say I have the soul of a gypsy, the heart of a hippie, and the spirit of a fairy. I tend to agree with it all.

     The birds were warbling sweet notes of sunshine. The water in the pond reflected light as though little diamond dewdrops were sprinkled on the surface. A soft breeze gently waved the green boughs of the trees in the yard. What a glorious day this was. I laughed and danced as I dressed.

     Today I felt like……..the gypsy, so it’s the skirt of many scarves, peasant blouse, dainty turquoise earrings, and a shiny scarf tied around my head, letting my mermaid teal-colored hair cascade down my back.

     I looked in the mirror approvingly, flipped my hair, put the strap of my patchwork bag over my shoulder, grabbed my lunch, and my tea, and scooted out of the door.

     I walked to work, it was less than a half of a mile. I walked every day, rain or shine, thank goodness where I lived, there was no snow. I was blessed to have found this town. I had been traveling aimlessly, a few years ago. Looking to find who I really was, after dealing with a traumatic abusive relationship and life experiences. I needed to heal and I needed time to find who I really was.  

     I thought about how all this had started. I was traveling in the south and ran across this sleepy little town. It was fate I decided, flat tire, needed to be repaired, casual conversation, friendliness, and decided to stay a few days.  

     I explored the little town, enthralled with the quiet solitude and just the feeling at home. The waitress at the cafe told me of the librarian position, seemed nobody wanted to do it. She also told me of the quaint little house at the end of town that was for rent, at a price I was astonished by, why so cheap? Seems most people that lived had land, farms, houses, and stayed in one place. The young ones that craved more excitement and life, left. Someone may pass and not have anyone to leave the property to, which had happened in the case of the quaint little house. So the town purchased it and they were looking for something to rent it.

     Immediately I went to the library, a little trepidation as I did not have a degree in educational media or library science. I did have a thorough knowledge of how the library worked though. When I was young, my father was a firm believer in saying look it up, he even bought us a set of encyclopedias. One day I went to him with a question and he gave me the same answer he always did….” Look it up.” Only this time I got angry, I yelled, “I did, it isn’t in there!” “Get in the car,” he said. I did, wondering what I did wrong and what was going to happen. We drove in silence and pulled up at a big building. The sign said Public Library. I looked at dad, puzzled. He said, “Come on.” He took me inside and that is the day my life changed, he showed me how the library worked and that I had all the information I ever needed at my fingertips.

     My parents were divorced, and we were left at home with a mom who made sure it wasn't a pleasant place or life. Turmoil, trauma, and low self-esteem were beaten into us regularly. Yet, I could ride the bus and go to the library for the day. I could fill my head with knowledge, answer any question, and go anyplace a book could take me, real or imagined. What a fantastic getaway and one I used often.

     So that day I applied for the job, I walked in with confidence, I knew libraries, oh boy did I. I answered all the questions, however, I didn’t have an address to put on my application. I explained, that if I got the job, my next stop was to see about renting the quaint house at the end of town. I hadn’t even seen it yet but this place was feeling like home, someplace that I could stay in and flourish.

     I spoke of helping young minds learn and explore their imagination, of ideas I had to help those young minds accomplish that. I don’t know if it was my enthusiasm or that no one else had applied for the job, I walked out with a huge smile and a job. The head librarian said it only been her since her assistant has passed a couple years ago. She was so tired and had to close the library one day a week just to have a day off. I said not to worry, I am here to help you.

     I found out the house to rent also had been owned by her assistant, and was furnished. When he died, there was no one to take possession of or any heirs. How about that, a job, probably a furnished home ( I only had clothes and few personal things) and a brand, new life. I skipped as I went to the City Hall to inquire about the house.

     City Hall was in the middle of the block, of one of the 4 blocks that made up the downtown. I walked in and a pleasant lady said, “Oh you must be the new librarian. Heard you were coming, here’s the rental agreement, sign here and if you need to wait until your first paycheck, you can pay the rent then.” I must have looked astonished, and she laughed. “Not used to trusting small-town folk, hey?” she chortled. “Not really,” I replied, “But I sure will enjoy that and living here. How much is the deposit.” Again she laughed, “Are you a murderer? Throw wild parties?” she asked. “NO,” I said emphatically. “Then no deposit, $250 a month rent, and here are the keys,” she said as she handed me the ring. I paid 2 months' rent, she gave me directions and I made my way down the street to my new place.

     It had the air of unuse, a little musty and dusty. I opened windows and explored upstairs and down, even the little basement and garage. All of this, only $250 a month? I felt like I had landed in a fairy tale. It was decorated in mythical, magical, collectiony fashion. I bet each piece had a story and if I couldn’t find the story, I would write one. I was good at stories, my imagination was what keep me ok through the years.  

      I cleaned as I sang and pretty soon upstairs and down were sparkling and smelling fresh. There were 2 bedrooms, kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom, pantry, and of course a library. There was even a washer and dryer in the basement and a lawnmower in the garage. I didn’t start work until Monday, so I had 2 whole days to make the place mine and get supplies.  

     This first trip for supplies was going to be the big one so I jumped in the car and headed to the nearest big town, about 40 miles away, and the nearest Walmart superstore. I got sheets, blankets, pillows, towels, washcloths, kitchen accessories, bathroom accessories & supplies, cleaning supplies, a clock radio, small flatscreen TV, an outdoor antenna, laundry supplies, and 2 weeks' worth of groceries. I planned on taking my lunch and drinks with me, thank goodness I made a menu and list before I left. I was totally organized that way. I loaded my car and headed home. What a comforting thought, home, it already felt that way.

     I unloaded everything and put sheets and blankets in the wash, next time I would hang them out and sleep in freshness. Wait a minute, I could do that now, hang them out first thing in the morning and sleep on the couch tonight. I arranged the food in the frig and cupboards, put everything neatly away, and got the couch ready for the evening. The couch had a cloudlike feeling, taking me in on pillows of fluffiness and I knew I would sleep well, even tho it was a new place.  

     I made myself some hot tea and went into the library. I found an old leather journal, on the top shelf, tucked in among the other books, barely able to be seen. I carried it to the couch, settled in, and opened the journal. It was written by the man who lived here, it explained all the artifacts in the house and some marvelous adventures. What it didn’t tell me, was how he was able to do and collect all that, at least not in what I was reading now. I fell asleep with the journal on my chest and dreams of far-away adventures.

     The next morning I woke to the sun streaming in the window and wondered for a brief moment, where the heck I was. Then it all came rushing back and I leaped off the couch, eager to start this day. The journal crashed to the floor and startled me, I had forgotten about it. As I bent to pick it up, I noticed a piece of paper sticking out of it. I removed it from the lining of the cover and gasped. It was about a magic book, that if one believed, could take you anywhere in the world, at any time. It came with a puzzle to find it and I was excited to begin to look. It was all so cryptic, I wasn’t sure if it was here or in the library. The items in the house and adventures mentioned began to make sense.

     I hung the sheets out, made my breakfast, and explored the outside of the property. Took me about 10 tries, but I got the lawnmower going and soon the yard was neat and the smell of freshly mowed grass tickled my nose. I pulled weeds in the flowerbeds, swept the porch, and looked around with satisfaction. Everything sparkled and gave me a sense of truly belonging.

     That night, after wearily putting the fresh sheets on the bed, and taking a long, hot shower, I crawled into bed with the journal tightly in my hand. I began to read again and all of a sudden, it hit me like a ton of bricks. The clues were in this journal and I was going to find this magical book.

     Again I fell asleep with the journal on my chest and dreams of beautiful lands with fantastic sights carried me till morning. I woke refreshed and spent the day preparing meals and lunches for the coming week. I laid my clothes out, walked about town, timed myself in how long it would take to get to work, was waved at by everyone, and stopped in the diner to say thank you.

The waitress, Sara, said, “I knew it would all work out, you seemed to be a perfect fit and we are glad you are here.” Just like that, accepted, not questioned about my past, safe, and at home.

      I went home and again crawled into bed, with the journal until sleep overtook me. I had a feeling the book was in the house and I was going to begin looking for it. I had an idea of where it was but that could wait until tomorrow.

     I woke early, excited, today was my first day of work at my new job. I already loved the job, the people, the house, the town, and my new horizons. I dressed in a skirt made of scarves and scooted out the door.

     As I walked along, I thought about the future. You see, inside each of us, is still the child-like essence, waiting to be free. Some of us tuck it so far away, it never comes out again, others let it play now and again but keep a tight rein on it. Now me, my resided in me, within me, and free to frolic whenever it wanted. I never wanted to lose that child-like wonder, the magic of the world around me, and the endless possibilities that anything is possible.  

     I couldn’t wait to share that with the children, to give them hope, nurture dreams, share knowledge, and how just have fun. I had visions of them running up, laughing, singing and all the fun we would have.

     Now the first day didn’t go quite as planned. I got quite a few looks, perhaps some were disapproving but whether it was my sunny personality or just being real that won them over, I am not sure. Soon the whispers stopped and smiles took their place. I was quite confused with all the names, was going to take me some time to remember them all, I met them so quickly. I suspect the whole town came to the library that day, to check out the new girl and give me a seal of approval or disapproval. The children were timid but slowly I won some of them over as well. All in all, it was a good day. I walked home very satisfied and eager for each new day.

     I ate my dinner and looked at the journal, realizing on each page of careful cursive writing was one printed word. I wrote them all out on a piece of paper and triumphantly I realized I had found the book. I ran to the library and on the bottom shelf, far left, pushed in on the book “The Pearl” by John Steinbeck and the secret compartment opened. There it was the magic book, I grasped it, went to the couch, and prepared for my first adventure. This is just the beginning of many magical tales.