When my kids were growing up, it was a place we visited constantly, especially in the summer.
Lowell's Pollard Memorial Library is a beautiful building next to Lowell City Hall. Like lots of libraries, it's filled with thousands of books. So many options. So many stories to get lost in.
Of my three daughters, the one who instantly took to reading was Lyndsay, my middle girl. Every summer, I created a summer reading program. I challenged her to fill up a reading log the library provided. She did - and then some.
I marveled at her love of reading. A visit to a library meant she would leave with 10-15 books. Some days we could barely carry them to the car. Her favorite bookstore was in Peterborough, N.H., a 75-minute drive from our house.
No matter. It was a trip we often made.
Thursday night Lyndsay and I returned to Pollard Memorial Library. I hadn't been there for about a year and it's been about 15 years since we were there together. Lots has changed since those days.
Today Lyndsay is in her fifth year as a teacher at Pinkerton Academy. Not surprisingly, she's an English teacher. I'm glad to report she still loves reading, something she tries to instill in her own students.
Pollard held a giant book sale. One room was completely filled with books, the most expensive of which was $2. We spent 45 minutes poking around. I bought four books. Lyndsay left with 10. Before we left, we walked around the children's section on the bottom level. Wow. The years rolled away. We remembered a kind, elderly librarian. We saw her so often it was like she was family.
The building looked almost the same. That was comforting. Libraries are a special place. Returning with my daughter to the scene of so much happiness, so much wonder, turned back the clock and made for a special night.
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