About a month before moving, I was charmed by a little girl who was hopping from foot-to-foot while singing, "Happy Birthday to me!"
We were at the local library and instead of shushing the child, I considered chiming in. The reason for the kid's exuberance? It was her eighth birthday which, in that family, meant it was time to receive a library card of one's own.
"Wow," I said, "happy birthday to you! What a special day!" No, she didn't dismiss me as an addlepated weirdo. Instead, she received my congratulations with joyful gravitas. I thought about her today when I went to the Roland Park branch of the Enoch Pratt Free Library for my new library card.
This is the 12th book borrowing card I've been blessed to have in the past 50 years of library membership. Blessed? Absolutely! Libraries have always felt like sacred space to me and all the high tech stuff doesn't sully that feeling one jot or tittle.