A pretty new journal, its crisp pages ready for words and ideas, is the promise of possibility.
It is a book that has yet to be written, a story that has yet to be shared.
There is no tension or drama; there is only hope.
I’m a teacher, but now I’m also a librarian.
I took a leave of absence a year ago, and have been doing some casual work since. Until recently, I was only on the substitute list for teaching. But I also have experience with office work (so I asked to be added to the admin. assistant list), and I have always thought I would love being a librarian (and so I also asked to be added to that list).
For a few weeks, I am now a part-time librarian. I spend a few hours a day in a quiet room filled with books.
This makes me very happy.
I’ve never much been one for bedtime stories.
By the time bedtime arrived, especially when my kids were small, reading a book was more of a chore than a sweet nighttime routine. I was always exhausted and as ready for bed as they were.
Besides, reading books in our house always meant questions. My children engage in books – and for that I am grateful – but this has never allowed for a quiet story before sleep.
Earlier in the day though, I am happy to read. With children now aged 8 and 10, I am incredibly thankful that they still enjoy having an occasional book read to them.
Plus now, they sometimes read them to me.
Sitting down can be a welcome relief.
As I often do in the evening, I grabbed my book, a few cushions, and a throw and tucked into the couch for an hour of quiet. This is all the more satisfying knowing I have had a productive day: The final coat on the doors is done, more deck has been stained, and the house is slowly returning to a state of order (having two little tornadoes living in the house wreaks havoc on order!).
In the morning, more things will need to be done. But for now, I enjoy the simple joy of sitting.