We set off for a two-week vacation, when I discovered that I had an over-due CD from The Greenfield Library. Worse than that I had no renewals left, despite my on-line vigilance. And because I feel utterly indebted to our local library for keeping my serious reading habit within a retired person’s budget, I am extra careful not to accrue fees or abuse my much enjoyed privileges. Now here I was calculating potential penalties and regretting this lapse of responsibility. It was casting a pall on a perfectly beautiful beach day.
Then I had an idea. I would return the CD to another library. After all we live in the age of inter-library loans, which in the past has provided books from as far away as Worcester or Springfield. So that very afternoon, I drove to the nearest cape town library which was closed on Mondays. No worry, we were not far from another town library, which was opened. I cheerfully explained the dilemma to the librarian: the audiotape, the due date, the wish to return ASAP. But no, I was informed, their libraries were not part of our network. I could, they suggested mail it back. Mail, it back? Book rate, I was assured. But I was not convinced that book rate was much faster than my eventual return home. And weren’t those costs mounting as we spoke? Not that I’m not also huge fan of our postal service, because I am.
Decades ago, we had another summer snafu when my husband and I headed off on a much anticipated vacation. This one involved tight ferry schedules and precise hotel reservations. We quickly discovered we had forgotten our money. All of our money. And seeing as this was in the old days before plastic, we were in trouble. Think of an era before ATM machines. Before everyone accepted credit cards. We appealed to nearby banks. We tried calling our own bank. We were hitting a wall when somehow we discovered the miracle of our local post office’s money order arrangements. It was all official and efficient. In a matter of hours (maybe a day) we were solvent and our vacation resumed. We were and remain grateful to the post office.
Now here’s the thing, I love our library. I love going to the library, picking up books, ordering books, finding good reads I didn’t know existed. I love the ready access, convenient hours, the hum of the place, the many events that invite us in to what has the feel of a gathering hub or public square. With that added dividend of resourceful helpers. There was that time I was in search of a good listening CD to take us, along with two beloved fifteen year olds, to New York City. Two fifteen year olds, who tended, if not distracted, to bicker endlessly. I really needed a good story but didn’t have a clue. But one of the librarians did and in no time it was in my hands and it was a humdinger. It got us there and back, glued to the story with nary a single backseat grumble. And there have been many a time, when I have come in with only partial information, a vague title perhaps or misspelled author, and yet our librarians assemble the pieces and locate the exact book.
So stuck with my overdue CD, I called the library. Bad cell phone reception not withstanding, there was quick clarification and a simple rescue. They verified my account. Found that the tape belonged to their library (a stipulation for such a procedure) and just like that added on an extra renewal with the parting shot of, “have a good vacation.” And really after that I did.
During my years as a teacher, I was an advocate of logical consequences when my excellent students made those inevitable mistakes or poor choices. I saw it as a critical learning tool as long as the consequences were proportional and related to the incident at hand. And as long as opportunities to repair mistakes rather than a harsh punishment were the desired outcome. “An apology of action,” it was sometimes labeled. So please take this as my apology of action or – perhaps you’d prefer I shelve a few stacks of books? In any case, thank you dear Greenfield Library and all who work there. We are lucky to have you in our community.
Ruth Carney of Greenfield contributes regularly to My Turn.