The Morning the Library Opened Its Doors

Our town library had been closed to the public for a year. You could order books online and pick them up in a paper bag at the door, but you couldn't go in. This March, it finally reopened.

I was there at nine sharp, with my two kids. There was a little line outside: an older man with a cane, a mother with a stroller, a teenager with headphones and a woman holding a bouquet of daffodils.

When the doors opened, the librarian, a tall woman named Ms. Bell who's worked there for thirty years, stood in the entrance and said, "Welcome home." The woman with the daffodils handed them to her. Ms. Bell put them in a vase on the front desk.

My kids ran straight to the children's room. My daughter sat on the carpet in the corner where she used to sit and pulled books off the shelf one after another, just touching them. My son found the stuffed dragon on top of the bookcase and hugged it.

We checked out twenty-three books. We were there for two hours. On the way out, Ms. Bell handed my kids a bookmark each and said, "Don't stay away so long."