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A Library Card is Your Ticket
Dedicated to D. L. Rice
Submitted by D
My parents' words in 1959. A right of passage in our house - writing your name for the very first time, all by yourself, on your very own library card.
With one teacher's salary and six kids, a library card was our equivalent of the old Disneyland E-ticket every Saturday afternoon. We rode those book adventures throughout the week, then came back for more.
Offering even more than books, the library was a work-study treasure trove; paying college tuition in the 70s. A dream job; being surrounded by books and the thoughts of thousands of writers, their imaginings, millions of words, records of travels, and discoveries.
Summer school, 1981. The library was a magical place. Looking out the window one day, I noticed that directly across the courtyard from my classroom was the library. This sixth grade teacher went right over and checked out something that had caught my eyeóthe librarian!
How many librarians do you know who were born in a public library? I was fascinated. Found out later it was a hospital before it was a library, but it made a good story.
That librarian was my ticket to. . . everything. We read romances and mysteries, we remodeled every room in our bungalow, we flew to Hawaii and ran the Honolulu Marathon in a thunderstorm.
Have you ever seen the sunset from Lahainaís public library? It's even better when you share it with your own true love.
A ticket to Hawaii . . . isn't a library card. And. . . it isn't . . . a valentine card.
A ticket to Hawaii IS a ticket to shared dreams and memories, sweet smelling air, the oceanís roar, and a ticket Iíd love to share with that fellow I checked out of the library, 20 years ago.