Everything we love is an accident that was written in the stars.
Sunday, July 1, 2018
Not that cold
It was shortly before opening at our library. The gates were mostly closed but a return bin was blocking the remainder of the opening to the library. A toddler squeezed through the small space there, getting separated from his mother. The mother was naturally alarmed at the separation, but also afraid to break into the library without permission before it was open. "My son's in there." She said. "Can I come in and get him?" "Of course." I replied. "We're the library, not ICE."