When I was a child and growing up in a small rural town, the nearest public library was 30 miles away. Periodically a book mobile (a library on wheels) would arrive at the school and we could âcheck outâ books.
To peruse the shelves in that little mobile unit was a thrill beyond words, and the books were treated like gold. About that time, one of my aunts joined a library club of sorts and she received books in the mail. She treasured each one and kept them in a built-in glass hutch near the living room of her pristine home. She would allow the children to read them only if you sat on the floor near the hutch and take one out a time and put it back. And it was a cardinal sin if you ever dared to turn the corners back on a page.