Once upon a time there was a little girl who loved books. From the time when she first listened to stories read to her by her Granny Joan, the little girl thought the magic and mystery of the written word was the most wonderful thing in the world. At four years old she could wait no longer and started to try to sound out words and teach herself to read. Within a few months she could read simple books.
The first book she ever read was called Little Bear and she remembered this story all her life. She wrote her name in the book with the b back to front. She still has this old and battered copy.
She liked books so much that she started to collect them. Her collection did not comprise of new and clean books but rather of interesting books she bought at school fetes and flea markets. She could spend hours sifting through the books and finding treasures to take home.
When she turned 11 years old, she thought she would make her own library. She devoted hours and hours to making library cards so that her friends and sisters could write their names on the cards when they borrowed a book. She made slip covers for each book to insert the cards into. A few months later, her library was ready. All the books were in alphabetical order and it was time to let her friends and family in so they could borrow her books. She found she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let other people borrow her precious books. What if they didn’t return them? What if they damaged them? So the library remained for her exclusive use only and one day, when she was much older, she found a collection of these old books from her past with their cards and slip covers all still inside in a pristine state.
She laughed and thought how little had changed in her life when it came to books. Her collection had grown and she now had over 3 000 books all packed neatly and in alphabetical order in book cases. She even split the non-fiction books by topic.
Best of all, books still made her happy. They were still her best friends.