An Apology Letter to Mrs. Chamberlin, Grade School Librarian

June 28, 2016

Dear Mrs. Chamberlin,

I am so sorry.

I'm sure there were reasons, possibly extenuating circumstances, but that's not an excuse. I do know that once I left my book outside on the patio and it rained, and we paid for that one, but I bet you had to send numerous notes home, and that wasn't right. I should have been more responsible and taken better care of my library book, but I didn't. And I should have brought you the money right away but I bet it took at least a few weeks. Before email I am certain there were notes lost, notes not delivered, notes purposely misplaced in hopes of finding the book. I know you had more important things to do than chase down an irresponsible child who had ruined a library book.

Maybe you don't remember, and quite possibly I shouldn't bring this up, but let me also apologize for routinely finding books that were not really appropriate for my grade or reading level. You know that shelf, the one that was directly across from the biography section? I loved those books, and I now realize that those books were there for children in the upper grades, and I should have waited until at least fifth grade to ask to check them out. Do you remember the time I found the book about the women suffragists; it had a black and white photograph of four women holding placards on the front, and I ran around the library showing everyone my amazing find? I think I may have been a little disruptive because you took that book away from me and stashed it behind the desk with Mrs. Osborn. I also have vague memories of sitting quietly alone for a good period of time following the suffragist book incident. I'm sorry.

I'm not making excuses here but I'm wondering if you still have those carrels, the ones that were on the floor and kind of comfortable? I ask because I know that more than once you had to remind me (and I'd guess Jim L.) to be quiet when we were in those carrels. Here's the thing, we were reading, but we were also talking, about the books. Have you read "Henry and Ribsy"? That's funny stuff. Wasn't there a story about Ribsy trying to save the garbage because he thought it was Henry's? Can you blame us for laughing? Yes, I'm certain we were too loud and I'm sorry. I bet Jim is also. You shouldn't have had to ask so many times, but you know, maybe had I been reading that suffragist book...no, we would have still found something to make us laugh.

A few years ago I found all my old report cards; my mother was holding on to them for this exact reason. Attached to my third grade report card was a receipt, signed by you, for $6.00: lost book replacement cost, received of Allyson Lang. I saved it, made a copy, and hung it on the door to the library where I now work. It's a reminder to our students that everyone looses books and that no one should feel terrible about it, accidents happen. Between you and me, accidents happen far too frequently. There are some students who make a genuine mistake (say leaving a book on the back patio when it rains) and they feel terrible about it. But there are many who say things like "I never checked that book out" or "I already returned that book" or the absolute worst, "my mom forgot to return that". Mrs. Chamberlin! Did their mother check out that book?

Libraries are such an amazing way to teach children about sharing and community and responsibility. Imagine, you allowed me to take home a book every week of my grade school life, and you trusted that I would return that book in the same condition. I know I let you down but I'm grateful that you allowed me to pay for the book and continue to check out for the next three years. Mistakes happen, thanks for understanding that.

I hope you enjoyed your job, running around in those burgundy pantsuits and pixie haircuts, trying to maintain order in that sprawling suburban school library. It was my favorite time of the week, not just because I read funny books with Jim in the carrels, but because I loved finding books in the library that I was genuinely excited to read. Did you know that I read every biography of a first lady in the library? Every one. Abigail Adams was my favorite, still is, followed closely by Eleanor Roosevelt. On the table next to my bed is the new biography of Louisa Adams, wife of John Quincy. I'll finish it this summer, and I bet I'll think of you and the tall shelf in the far corner, where you kept your biographies, when I do.

My apologies for all the time you spent chasing after me and my books. I'd like to say it was childhood exuberance, and that may have been a factor, but there was also childhood irresponsibility in play. I should have returned my books on time and paid quickly for those left in the rain, I've learned my lesson.

Thanks Mrs. Chamberlin, I really loved library.

Your former student,

Allyson Lang

Our Reading Promise

Once I had brushed my teeth and said a prayer, I climbed into the huge old Victorian bed, the same one she had slept in as a child, and waited while my grandmother found the book we were reading. She climbed in next to me, we pulled up the Little Red Riding Hood sheets, and she read. We read Anne of Greene Gables, The Magic Bed Knob, Mary Poppins, The Secret Garden, Tom Sawyer, The Borrowers and my very favorite,  Heidi. We read from an old copy of Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales, my grandmother patiently reading "The Little Match Girl" over and over because it was always my first choice. When we had finished a book she told me stories of "Cuddles and Tucky", a series that ran in the Kansas City paper before I was born, adventures of a brother and sister. I remember thinking how amazing she was, to remember all those stories and now, as an adult, I know just how amazing she was, creating her own stories as we lay there in that big huge bed. While the stories we read are now amongst my favorites, what I remember most is how much I loved curling up next to her each night when she read, and knowing now that she took that time, every night, to be with just me. Whenever I stayed at my grandparents' house, my grandmother read to me before I fell asleep in my big old bed.

Last summer Jack gave me a copy of The Reading Promise (Alice Ozma),  a beautifully written memoir of one girl's promise she shared with her father: to read together every night until she left for college. It was clear from the start that I was going to love this book. Her single father is a librarian, one who eventually looses his job to the reorganization of his school; the years of accumulated books packed into boxes to make way for computers, an idea that gives me nightmares. As a daughter who lost her father much too soon, a mother who cherishes her nightly reading time, and a librarian who loves her job so much she volunteers, The Reading Promise was clearly one of the best selections Jack had ever made.

Last summer we made our own reading promise. We've been loose when necessary, a quick poem or two when homework, or exhaustion, kept us all up too late. We read every holiday picture book we own in the month of December, rather than bury ourselves in a novel that would take us away from The Elves and the Shoemaker or  The Tailor of Gloucester. We've made choices together, spending hours in our local bookstore scouring possibilities, and we've relied on my memory, somewhat. Knowing that one of the best books I read as a child involved a boy, New Jersey and fireworks, but unable to remember the title, I Googled those key words and discovered Henry Reed, Inc., by Keith Robertson. My memory is good, the series, of which we have now read three, is one of the best I know. They are still funny and wonderful and books to read in summer, as they all take place over summer vacation, and involve nothing more than the mishaps and quiet adventures of Henry and his friend Midge. There's no magic, no great adventure, just a boy, his dog and a cat sent up in the air in a weather balloon.

We've passed the one year mark with no end in sight. Of course I know that someday, in a time I am not now equipped to consider, our streak will end, as did Alice's. Their final read, huddled together in a stairwell of her college dormitory, was one that, even now, one year later, makes me weepy. Thankfully the beautiful story that led to the end was well worth the tissues required.

"Reading to someone is an act of love. This book is, above all else, a love story." -Alice Ozma

Our Reading Promise, Thus Far


Junonia, Henke
Nancy Drew, Keane
  The Secret of the Old Clock 
   The Hidden Staircase
   The Bungalow Mystery
   The Mystery at Lilac Inn
   The Secret at Shadow Ranch
   The Secret of Red Gate Farm
   The Clue in the Diary
   Nancy's Mysterious Letter
The Borrowers, Norton
Mary Poppins, Travers
Once Upon a Small Town, Mooy
A Christmas Memory, Capote
The Great Brain, Fitzgerald
Harriet the Spy, Fitzhugh
Secrets at Sea, Peck
The Journal of Finn Reardon, Bartoletti
Charlotte in Paris, Knight
Pollyanna, Porter
Henry Reed Inc., Robertson
Henry Reed's Journey, Robertson
Henry Reed's Babysitting Service, Robertson
From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, Konigsburg
The Secret Garden, Burnett
Betsy-Tacy, Lovelace

"If a child sees something in a parent that the child aspires to, he or she will copy that parent and be content. If children feel that a parent is living a life that shows compassion and understanding, patience and love, that child will not have to reach a stage of rebellion against that parent. Why rebel against someone who has listened to you and wants to help you fulfill your dreams? A parent who has proven time and again that the growth and happiness of his or her children is priority number one does not have to worry about where those children are heading in life. They will be sensitive and productive members of society for as long as they live." -Jim Brozina (Alice's Dad)

All that and I get to curl up and end my day with the best people I know, even on days when they have made me absolutely crazy, and I them? There is no greater way to say goodnight.