Protect city libraries for our children’s sake

Every child needs a safe place, a sanctuary to run to, a world in which to escape the powerlessness of childhood.

My dad was in the military, so we moved a lot. I attended four different elementary schools.

The awkwardness of always being the “new kid” was compounded by my natural shyness. My refuge was the library.

Books absorbed me and fulfilled me. They were my constant companions, and often my only friends.

Reading was my ticket out of misery and into magic.

The first thing we found in each new town was a church. The second thing was the public library.

Dad would drop me off each Saturday, and I would spend hours poring over books, discovering new authors, new worlds and new dreams.

The librarians became my mentors and friends. I met a few scowly shushers, but the majority shared my love of books and delighted in introducing me to their own favorites.

The libraries of my childhood each had its own personality, but all of them smelled the same. The dusty scent of newsprint and musty pages was like the heady perfume of homemade apple pie to me.

It felt like having a grandma’s house in every town we lived in.

By the time I reached my teens, Dad retired and we settled in Spokane. Dating, school and youth group activities consumed me.

I no longer needed the library as a refuge; instead it became my anchor in the turbulence of adolescence. While everything around me and within me was in flux, my weekly trip to the library was an oasis of stillness.

In my 20s and 30s, marriage and motherhood fulfilled and often overwhelmed me. The library became my refuge again, not from loneliness, but from busyness.

I could leave the babies with my husband and escape once again.

As my children reached the magic age of 5 and could print their names, they received a library card as a rite of passage. Now, when my oldest son feels crowded by his three noisy brothers, he often takes off on his bike for the library.

Sadly, our refuge faces extinction. Already downsized and diminished by current city budget woes, Spokane Public libraries face further cutbacks and closures. The smaller branch libraries are open only two or three days a week, making it extremely difficult for patrons to use the libraries their tax dollars built.

A city without thriving public libraries is a city without a soul. For low-income families a weekly visit to the library is one treat they can offer their kids.

Many have no Internet access at home, and the library is the only place they can get the information they need for school research projects and book reports.

Let your voice be heard by the library board and the City Council. The library board of trustees usually meets the third Wednesday of each month.

Information can be found at www.spokanelibrary.org. For contact information for City Council members, go to www.spokanecity.org.

In each new town we were transferred to, the library was the one place I felt welcomed and at home.

Doesn’t every child deserve that refuge?