At the end of my freshman year in high school, the librarian that had been there for a couple decades retired. The decision was last minute and a complete shock to the entire school. Everyone absolutely adored him. I had to read a small speech about him on the teacher’s last day of school that year. I don’t recall a dry eye in the room.
The interview for the new position was held that summer, the summer before my sophomore year. My mother and I waited with baited breath that Mrs. L would get the job. Little did we know that wish would unleash a torrential downpour, complete with lightning bolts and tornadoes.
Mrs. L was the librarian I had had in elementary school. I thought she was amazing! I always went back to my elementary school to visit her after I left. I thought she would be perfect. In fact, she was the only reason I was okay with the former librarian retiring.
Everything started out wonderfully. That August, she had the library painted. She made it look new. I loved it. I was blissful. I couldn’t have been more wrong… because then September started… and the books started leaving.
It started with only one cart in the hallway. A handful of books that were ancient. I saw nothing wrong with that. One cart of discard books wasn’t anything to get excited over.
Soon, the librarian ordered new couches for the library. We had never had couches in there before. I was not crazy over the idea, but I could live with it. Then the couches came in, and I changed my mind. They were dark blue, but they were elf-sized. They were small and hard. I adjusted.