Reading Matters. Just ask the Book Lady.
If you can indulge me for a few lines, I will try to keep this brief.
My aunt passed away yesterday, suddenly and due to a tragic accident. She is my mother's youngest sister, and one of the two surviving siblings of the 10 born to my grandparents. Her name was Barbara Hales, and she taught Children's Literature at Utah State University for nearly three decades, if my recollection is correct. She loved reading, literacy, and books, especially children's books, more than anyone I know. She also put her money where her mouth was, working with the Mayor of her town to provide books for all the children in the elementary schools in her district. She would hand-pick books for each grade level and buy them at discount prices. The mayor came up with a way to help fund her habit, and they set up a program that runs to this day in Cache Valley, Idaho.
Twice every year, she held a book sale in her garage. She would gather up the best titles and sell them, dirt cheap, to anyone who came by. If you dropped in for a visit, she would give you a couple, just for good measure. This was not a little sale -- this was a no-room-for-cars-in-the-two-car-garage, weeks-on-end-spent-buying/sorting/pricing/organizing-the-books kind of sale. It was huge.
Three weeks ago, on our vacation, I took Marie, my oldest daughter, to meet her great aunt. They live less than 15 miles apart, but my daughter is a little shy about meeting new people, and the fact that we have lived more than half a continent away from Barbara and her family meant that Barbara was a stranger to Marie. I was determined to fix that because I knew they were kindred spirits.
See, Marie loves books. She always has. When she was little, I would let her take a book to bed to read before turning out the light, but she could never pick just one. I used to scold her for taking 20 books to bed with her, because by morning, they would be scattered all over the bed and floor, but she just couldn't choose between her favorite friends! I finally gave up, and now her husband is the one who has to put up with a towering stack of books beside their bed. He's getting used to it.
When Marie learned to read, she immediately began reading to her younger siblings. She didn't need books. She would pull up a colorful blanket and read the blanket to them -- making up the story as she went along. Or she would read their pajamas to them, or a stuffed animal. I couldn't believe her creativity and her love of story-telling. Today she is employed in the school district next to the one which benefited from Barbara's work. She is starting up a brand new literacy program for the parents and families of spanish-speaking students in that area with the notion that if the parents can read English, they can help their children with their homework, and that if the families are reading together, they will be happier. I knew that Marie needed to meet Barbara.
And she did. We sat in Barbara's living room for an hour or so, discussing literacy and good books, and family and life. Barbara was over 80 years old, slight of build like my mother, and frail in frame, but not in spirit. Her eyes sparkled and she laughed freely as we visited. She gave us two books to read, which we promised to share between us. Marie promised to come back in early December to help with the book sale. I recited my poem "To Dr. Seuss" after we spent some time discussing Seuss' art and influence on children's literature. Barbara asked me to write it down and send it to her.
Last night, when I got the phone call from my sister who lives out west, my letter to Barbara with four of my poems in it was sitting on the hall table, stamped and ready for today's mail. I called Marie to let her know, and she told me that she had convinced her book group to read the book Barbara had given her; she planned to call Barbara today to invite her to join the reading group this time around.
How fragile we are, and how marvelously connected. They called my aunt "the Book Lady." Someday I hope that my life will have as much meaning as hers has had.
I'm so glad we took the few minutes to visit her, and so grateful that she spent her life opening the world of reading to those who shared her corner of that world.
