Memory Lane – Story Hour at the Library

Memory Lane

A few weeks ago, Dave and I drove down Memory Lane. The drive took us to a 1200 acre farm near Scottsville, Virginia. We moved there when our babies were seven months and two years of age. We stayed for 18 months before moving to another farm. Dave loved farming and thrived in his new job, out in the field mowing hay and looking after cattle. I was “stuck” in a house with two little boys and no neighbors or friends. Oh, I found friends gradually, but my world as I lived it 150 miles southwest was gone. At first, there was excitement at new things and new places to go. We had a “new”  to us – house and there were plenty of places to walk on the farm, but I’d come back home to my house, feeling alone.

I was depressed and didn’t know it. Dave knew, and one day – months later, he handed me an article he clipped from the local newspaper.

“You need to take the boys to this,” he said. “You need to find people to relate to and get out of the house. Plus, the kids will love it.”

The Scottsville library was just five miles down the road, and I knew Dave was right. So we went. Every week, we were there.

Story hour

By this time, my baby was a toddler who loved nothing better than to take books off the shelves and throw them on the floor. Timmy wasn’t content with one row of shelves. Had I allowed, an entire bookcase could be emptied in minutes. He didn’t care about story hour because sitting still was the bane of his existence. Finally, one day, I purchased a leash for my toddler. I slipped it onto his wrist so he could only go so far from me. However, the library was not quiet when the leash was on because he fought it hook, line, and sinker. What to do?! He never acquiesced to the leash and I never won the battle with the books.

On the other side of the bookshelves was his older brother Benji, who loved nothing better than to hear stories, again and again and again. It was in this library and this story hour where Ben was introduced to Curious George. He just had to take as many Curious George books home as I allowed. Benji was always so engrossed in looking at all the books that he’d forget to choose a Curious George book. At checkout, he’d beg to choose a Curious George book. One day I made a rule that when I gave him five minutes to pick out his books for checkout, the books he brought me were all we’d take home. That first day, we went home without any Curious George books. He cried the entire way home while his brother cried because he had to be in his car seat, again.

Remembering story hour with gratitude

When Dave and I chose to drive past the farm (the gate was padlocked) and head into town to find the library, you can imagine the memories. We found the library, nestled on the back side of town like I remembered. Thirty-six years ago, this was our stomping ground one day a week. We went inside and met the librarians, who were too young to remember our family. However, in true Scottsville tradition, they were as welcoming today as the librarians were those many years ago.  After a good look around and introductions were made, I roamed the aisles, looking at those book-filled shelves.

I remembered Curious George and the toddler leash. I remembered picking up book after book to replace on the library shelves. Most of all, I remembered how a thirty-minute story hour one day a week became the salvation of my sanity.