I helped two women find books on grief today. Moments later, I heard loud sobbing. I didn't turn to look. I think the younger woman wanted some privacy, crouched down in the stacks. Such painful heart wrenching sobs, muffled in her arms, my heart went out to her.
Yesterday a woman spoke to me who I see often, however she has never asked for help. She uses a walker, is generally ungroomed, scowling, long wisps of stringy hair hanging in her eyes. Her very elderly mother, who she described as "half-deaf" was unable to hear the sound on the computer with the earphones. They were proudly watching a movie trailer featuring her son, a local actor. She was pleasant, her voice clear and polite and I was surprised. I though her scowl, permanently pasted on, indicated her state of mind, her disposition. I wasn't simply judging the book by her cover, a few weeks ago I also had a near miss in the mall with her as she roared through on one of those handi-darts at high speed, veering around shoppers. I was wrong!
I had two teens figure out that certain publishers publish certain types of materials. We ran a search by publisher to get more juicy chick lit. I wanted to share so much more, I've read a lot of good teen stuff lately. Unfortunately a lot of the new goodies are checked out, all the time, probably by teachers and library school students. I'm such a pessimist sometimes! It was nice, but they left without touching my display of booklist titles and I felt a little sad. Sniff.
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