And now, the final post for the Library-Lovin’ Blog challenge, from my good friend Emily!  She told me recently about how much she loves Sylvester, the librarian at Louisville’s Eline Library, and I thought, “She must do a guest post for me!”  Thankfully, she has ceded to my command, and now you get to hear this sweet story.

Also thankfully, you readers have raised at least $40 for the library with your comments this week!  Think you can get it to $50?  Do I hear $55?  Comment away, me hardies, and thanks for visiting!

And now for Emily’s post (ooh! Like Emily Post!)

When I was a little girl, my family used to go to Cape Cod for two weeks

every summer, and the local library was within walking distance. I’d roll my little red wagon there, and the librarians greeted me each year with a “Welcome back!” I’d fill the wagon with books, and on the way home we’d stop for blue raspberry slushies and possibly, if my mother was in a very good mood, a Ring Pop. So libraries fill me with warm, fuzzy feelings, and also a desire for slushies.

Not Emily's actual toddler, but look! Cute toddler!

When I was pregnant with my first child, I knew I wanted the library to be special to him as well. As soon as the doctor gave me the go ahead to take him out in public, and as soon as I got over my fear of driving with him in the car, we went to the library. Now he’s a sturdy toddler, and I can no longer carry him into the library. He must walk, thank you very much. The entrance to our particular library is a long hallway, with the children’s section on the right, the adult section on the left, and panes of glass dividing the hallway from the books. Every single time we go, my son gets so excited to see the books (“Story!” he says. “Story!”) that he presses up against the glass. He’s so eager to get to the books that he cannot fathom he has to walk down the hall and around the glass. Instead, he bangs on the glass in frustration. He can see the books! Why can he not get to them?

But what makes the library really special is the librarians. First of all, they greet my son by name. Second of all, when he pulls many books off the shelf in his sheer joy at being surrounded by stories, they manage to hide their exasperation really, really well. And finally, when he cries in despair at having to leave, turning bright red and wailing as loudly as he can (which very loudly, in case you were wondering), they smile and make clucking noises and tell him they’ll see him soon.

The Ur-Sylvester. Am I right?

And if that doesn’t work, we see Sylvester.  Sylvester is my son’s favorite librarian, and mine too, I admit. Partially because his name is Sylvester, which is awesome, but mostly because he’s a very nice man. The last time we were at the library, my son had a fit because I wouldn’t let him bang on a computer keyboard. Red-faced, tears streaming down his cheeks…he was pathetic. All the little old ladies there looked very concerned. So I took him to the check-out desk, and there was Sylvester.

“Hi, Evan,” he said cheerfully.

The screaming stopped, and Evan eyed him.

“Tough day today, huh?” he asked.

Sniffles from Evan.

“Here are your books!” he said, and handed them to me.

A tiny voice piped up. “Thank you. Bye bye, Sylv.”

I kind of want to take Sylvester home with me and have him hand me books every time a tantrum occurs, but I think I’ll have to stick with regular visits to the library.

Again–leave a comment below, or here, here, or here, and Jess will donate $1 so librarians like Sylvester can have consistent hours and help kids like Evan and moms like Emily.

Also, thanks to Jennifer Hubbard, author of The Secret Year, for brain-childing the Library-Lovin’ Blog Challenge!  See all you library fans next year!