I love the library. Big, giant public libraries, small, cozy neighborhood libraries. I love them all. I love everything about them. The recommended books on display, the friendly librarians who will help you find anything, the hushed quiet, the person laughing out loud at whatever they are watching on the library computers. When I take my car in once a year to be serviced in the next county from mine, I always head to their library to kill time while it is being worked on. That library has nice comfortable office chairs and lots of outlets to do your work. My own neighborhood library has big long tables with table top lamps that scream cozy. 

 

I noticed over the summer, a family that set up a tent each night as the library closed. Sometimes, on my morning walk, I would the family collapsing the tent poles and smushing their stuff down into bags. I wondered if they are okay, what were the chain of events that led them to the tent on the library landing. Some days, when I go to pick up a book I have ordered, I see the boy, a teenager using the computer with his dad. The librarian walks over and shares books, words, kindness. Then for whole months, I do not see them at. all.

 

Recently, in a different city, I visited their library. It had all the things I love about libraries and even had the name “free” in it, “Free library of Philadelphia.” I found a long table, pulled out my computer and began to do some work. Shortly after, a man came it, sat down with his bag of stuff and started to look at a book. His back to me, his shoulder slumped, he positioned the bag before him, and rested his head in his arms. It was sprinkling outside and he was taking a rest. The security guard came by soon after, knocked hard on the table and told him, “No sleeping” in a rather stern voice. The man sat up quickly, said, “I’m not sleeping, just rested my head a second,” and opened the book on the table before him. I had never seen anyone scold a sleeping library patron back home. 

 

Back to working on my notes, I looked up and saw that the tall librarian was headed my way. The tired man had put his head down again. “Come on! No sleeping in the library. You gotta go. The security guard said he already warned you. Let’s go. Get up now or I need to call the police, ” the tall librarians said in a voice that sounded less kind librarian and more jaded human. The tired man rubbed his eyes, let out a deep breath. “Really?” he muttered. “Let’s go!” the librarian continued, as the security guard stood behind him, nodding his head. The tired man let out another long deep sigh and stood up, picked up his back and walked out the the library.