I Have Something I Think You Might Like
In the heart of the small town of Maple Hollow, nestled between a bakery and a barber shop, stood the public library—a brick building with ivy creeping up its sides and stories waiting inside. And behind the worn oak reference desk sat Alex, the town librarian, with a gentle smile and a knack for remembering things most people forgot.
Alex had no official superpowers, but if you asked anyone in town, they'd say Alex could read minds—at least when it came to books. Everyone from toddlers to retirees would swear that Alex always knew just what they needed, often before they knew it themselves.
Whenever someone walked in, Alex would look up with a twinkle in their eye and say, "I have something I think you might like."
One blustery Tuesday afternoon, Nora, a shy twelve-year-old who loved animals but struggled to make friends, shuffled through the door. Without missing a beat, Alex reached beneath the desk and held out a brightly illustrated graphic novel titled Scout the Shelter Cat Saves the Day! It was part of a series about a scrappy feline who helps kids solve mysteries and feel braver. Nora's eyes lit up, and she hugged the book like it had been written just for her.
Later that same day, Mr. Ramirez, the retired mechanic with a booming laugh and a secret love for poetry, ambled in. Alex didn't even look up this time, just slid a slim volume across the desk titled Wrenches and Words: Poems from the Garage. Mr. Ramirez chuckled and nodded. "You get me," he said, tipping his cap.
On Wednesday morning, Zadie, a college student back home for the semester and working part-time at the local diner, popped in. She'd been trying to figure out what to do with her future. Alex handed her a glossy magazine called Modern Makers, featuring interviews with artisans who turned hobbies into careers. "There's a woman in here who started out sewing aprons at her grandma's table," Alex said. Zadie sat down right there and started flipping pages.
A few minutes later, twins Milo and Javi, age six, bounded through the door, still wearing capes they'd made out of pillowcases. "Superheroes again?" Alex asked, already reaching for a worn cardboard box. Inside were laminated character sheets for a make-believe game called Library League, where kids could pretend to be literacy-themed heroes—Captain Comma, The Dewey Decimator, and their archenemy, Miss Spelled. The twins squealed with delight.
And just before closing time, Ms. Evelyn, who was ninety-two and refused to use the internet, walked in with her walker adorned in crocheted flowers. "Got anything scandalous?" she asked with a wink. Alex produced a large-print mystery novel with a title too suggestive for its mild contents: Murder at the Midnight Bridge Club. Evelyn clutched it like a love letter.
The reference desk wasn't just a counter where questions were asked. It was a treasure chest, a confession booth, and a secret corner store all in one. Alex kept a rotating stash under it: crossword books for Mr. Lee, seed catalogs for garden club members, zines made by local teens, even a jar of homemade bookmarks pressed from fall leaves.
People said the library felt different these days—warmer, more alive. Some said it was the new reading lamps, or the smell of cinnamon tea from the community kettle. But most people knew the truth.
It was Alex.
And every time someone stepped through the doors, they were reminded that in a world that often forgot your name or your dreams, someone had taken the time to remember.
"I have something I think you might like," Alex would say.
And they always did.
(This story is donated to the public domain.)
http://tinyurl.com/storiesofkindnessandcourage
https://philshapirochatgptexplorations.blogspot.com/
"Wisdom begins with wonder." - Socrates
"Learning happens thru gentleness."
Comments
Post a Comment