Stephanie's Library
Stephanie lived in a small, coal mining town. Growing up, the only public library she had access to was a tall bookshelf of musty books in the courthouse. She would go down there every few months to see if there were any books she might want to read, but she almost always walked home empty handed. Then, when she was in middle school, she heard of plans to build a public library. A real library, with books that you would want to read and take home. The library was going to take three years to build, but no matter. Patience is a virtue. The library would be finished right about the time she entered her sophomore year in high school. After the library opened, she could gorge herself on books. She had so much catching up to do.
Stephanie counted down the days, weeks, and months. The excitement of a real library in her small town filled her with hope and determination. Every time she passed the construction site, she tried to imagine the shelves filling up with books—novels that smelled of possibility, glossy encyclopedias with secrets of the world, and mysteries that waited for her to solve.
In the meantime, she kept herself busy. She borrowed books from distant relatives, begged old paperbacks off traveling salespeople, and traded whatever she could with classmates. One day, a tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice appeared in her hands, the cover held together by tape and sheer will. She read it so many times that she could quote entire passages by heart.
Finally, the day arrived. Stephanie, now fifteen, stood at the entrance of the gleaming new building, its glass doors reflecting the town's modest main street. The ribbon-cutting ceremony featured the mayor, who tried and failed to make a joke about overdue books. No matter—Stephanie was too enthralled by the sight of rows upon rows of shelves to care about his weak punchlines.
The moment the ribbon was cut, she raced inside. The cool, crisp smell of new books and polished wood hit her like a dream. There was a section for young adult novels, one for science fiction, and even a whole corner dedicated to poetry. She wandered through the aisles in a daze, her fingers lightly brushing the spines.
She checked out a stack of books so high she had to balance it with both hands. At home, she devoured them, staying up late into the night with a flashlight under her quilt. Each book was a new world, a new adventure.
But it wasn't just about the stories. The library became a refuge. After school, she'd hurry over, drop her bag by a table, and dive into another book. The librarians began to recognize her, greeting her with knowing smiles and occasionally slipping her recommendations. One day, Mrs. Pritchard, the head librarian, handed Stephanie a book on how to write stories.
"You've got a sharp mind, Stephanie," she said. "Why not try putting your own words on paper?"
Stephanie hesitated. She'd never considered that she could be the one telling stories. But that night, armed with a cheap notebook and a ballpoint pen, she began writing. At first, her stories were clumsy imitations of the books she loved—dashing detectives and moody protagonists with tragic backstories. But gradually, her authentic voice began to emerge.
By the time she graduated high school, Stephanie had a thick folder of short stories, a budding confidence in her abilities, and a new dream: to become an author. She wrote a letter to Mrs. Pritchard to thank her, along with a promise: someday, her name would be on one of those spines, waiting on the library shelf for the next girl with big dreams in a small town.
Years later, Stephanie returned to that same library. This time, she walked through the doors not as a teenager hungry for books but as an author on a book tour. Her debut novel was on display at the entrance, and the small meeting room was packed with people eager to hear her speak. As she read the opening passage aloud, she glanced at the audience and spotted a girl near the back, clutching a tattered notebook. Stephanie smiled. She knew that look. It was the same spark she'd felt the first time she walked into this library, ready to take on the world.
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"Wisdom begins with wonder." - Socrates
"Learning happens thru gentleness."
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