Perfumed with Memories

I often reminisce in the days of childhood books.  I loved the magic of The Purcellville Library, the freedom of her basement.  I revel in the mystic Thomas Balch Library, the echo of her vaulted ceilings and the musty smell of her historic walls.  Listening to read along books on the living room 8-track Hi-fi.  But none of my days immersed in childhood literature was as poignant as were the days where Aunt B entered The Hamilton Elementary School.  The wreak of cheap perfume, the granny shoe, the white beehive.  We were mystified as to who she was and why on earth she would come visit us.  She was warm and welcoming; and came equipped with a book and a great love for children.  We anxiously sat at her feet on the occasional day in which we would be privileged for her to walk through our classroom door.  Tales of fantasy and joy were ours; each story a treasure.  Moments of knowing our value and feeling important were ours to claim.

This year, a friend of mine made arrangement with me so we could swap days to volunteer at our children's schools.  My first priority? to read to the children; to unlock the joy and magic of a book.  Graciously, my son's first grade teacher consented.  What imagination lies untouched, unemployed in their beautiful minds?  Animals past and present, children from the world over, and mythical creations of greatest diversity.  I hope to unlock your own memories and the memories yet to come for your own fairies and giants of the growing generation.

In any of the following blogs please feel free to share your favorite stories of the Aunt B in your life and the favorite tales found between the covers of your most treasured pages.