Red Room Where the Writers Are

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Underlined just for me

My first love of books began in the Free Library of Philadelphia.  A great book report in elementary school brought me and seven other children in the City of Philadelphia to a luncheon and reading with Marguerite De Angeli - A well known author in American Children’s Literature.  This was my first visit to the City’s Library.

The outside of the building looked strong and powerful with large pillars on either side that resembled Roman architect, to me. There were two huge doors with long brass door handles that opened into the foyer. You could hear a soft echo immediately that spoke through the air as we were greeted at the information desk.  The ceilings were two stories high and the walls and floors were marble and wood that softly tapped beneath our shoes.  There were brass and wood railings that curved and narrowed as they separated the entrance and the exit lines for borrowing books.  The book shelves were tall and filled the walls in a neat and perfect order of burgundy and navy cloth bind books, Encyclopedias, and Dictionaries.  Although they were well out of my reach, there were lower shelves of books close enough to take a peek at the words; some that I'd yet meet to know.  Some were in Roman and Italic fonts that were lined very close together.  I somehow knew and felt as though they wanted to tell me something more.  And that someday I would find what they had to say to me.

It was an honor to meet my first author, in person!  I stared at her from head to toe as she read some of the excerpts from her book Just Like David.  She asked some of us children which part of the story we enjoyed the most - And I trembled with my answer.  She was kind and looked very important and intelligent to me.  She told us that she read her stories to children all over the world - And that it was a very special gift that we had, to be able to read.  

The librarian was dressed very professional and looked very important, too. I liked the way she spoke in a whisper to us.  After the reading, we all sat in our chairs at a long shiny wood table in the children’s section and had lunch together.  A photographer from the newspapers came and took our pictures standing with Marguerite DeAngeli in front of the wall lined with books.  We felt smart and famous knowing we’d  be on the front page of all the neighborhood newspapers.  When I was in the Library, I felt as though I was in the most important building in the world!  The books and all the people that were in the Library with me seemed to know we belonged together. We all wanted to know what the words in the books wanted to say to us.

Libraries and book stores continued to rapture me. But there was something “more” going on with all my senses from the borrowed books and the Library – The old and worn- out books led me to believe that there was an important message in them that I needed to know.  I’d always read the Library card in the pocket in back of the books for the dates and names of the people that borrowed them before me.  I felt as though we had a mysterious connection and they were just like me.   I especially liked when something in the book was underlined, I thought it was a covert message that was underlined just for me!