Food For Thought

Articles

Holly Winter
Living The Life Of Holly

Food For Thought
May 6, 2003

I decided that perhaps the best way to procrastinate doing my laundry today was to wear my best clean clothes, which were more than a bit shabby, and take a nice long sunny day walk to the library. I mean. I don’t need to wear shiny duds while walking along the dusty streets of Denver, do I?

I took off with the determination of a woman who was in no rush to get somewhere, because she would only happily lounge when she arrived. Oh. What a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.

“Hey. You had lunch yet?” A ragged man holding a sign that read, ‘25cents helps’ called over to me.

“Yes.” I said. “Just ate.”

“Oh. Too bad.” He said, sadly as he nodded his head, dismissing me.

I know. I kicked myself after I walked away. I mean. Which of us would have paid for lunch? What would we have talked about? Man. I was missing a golden opportunity.

I got to the library and was surprised that they didn’t want to search my backpack. You know. I had a notebook in there. And a cell phone in my purse. And I was pretty sure that I had a pen or two. And a bottle of water. Perhaps I have been through too many security check points at airports, yes?

The guard waved me through. “How many books you going to check out today?” He smiled.

“As many as I can carry out of here.” I smiled back.

I went up to the nonfiction section and got lost in the columnist’s book corner. Oh. I know. I have read them all. But. Still. I like visit this area so that I can dust off my place on the shelf. You know. Leave room for where Holly Winter’s book will one day sit in the Denver Public Library. I think that it is a good idea to keep that space cleared out. So that my book will have a home one day when it does get published.

I found six interesting books from as many different sections as I could fathom and went to the automatic check out. Nothing like a red blinking light to bleep you through, one book at a time. It seems just and right that it the quiet sanctity of the library, a patron may checkout a book without the help of a librarian.

I walked over to the capital building. There are always so many homeless people sprawled out on the grass. Is this some kind of political statement? It still boggles my mind just how many homeless there are in Denver.

“Hey lady.” Four homeless teen boys called to me. “Come over here and sit with us. We won’t bite.” They laughed, figuring that I wouldn’t come near them.

They don’t know me very well. I have taught high school. These kids looked far less intimidating than some of my former students. And. You know. I wasn’t going to miss two golden opportunities in one day.

“Why should I join you? You have any good stories?” I challenged them, sitting down in their circle.

“You got any food in that bag?” The brown haired boy asked.

“Nope. Sorry. I got library books.”

I hand out my books, and we spend some time leafing through my finds. A book about a woman who has travel adventures. A picture book of birds of the tropics. A book about making newsletters on your home computer. A book of ancient maps of Europe. A book about the health benefits of walking. And the most popular one, the book about the sex of fungi.

“Lady. Do you READ this stuff.”

“No way. I look at the pictures.”

“But this sex one doesn’t have pictures.” The blonde boy complained.

“I think that you have to read the words in that one.” I laughed. I had gotten it as a joke for a friend who loves to read strange books. Um. This rates.

I was pretty sure that this young boy had no idea what fungi was. I doubt that he had attended many science classes in his school career. He turned that book over and over in his hands.

“I didn’t know that they had books like this in libraries.” He said. “Where would I find this book if I wanted it?”

I showed him the call numbers and gave him a quick lesson on the floors of the library. I explained that although you needed an address to get a library card to take books out, you could go into the library and read all the books you wanted to, for free.

I collected my books and said goodbye to the boys. “Well. Sorry I didn’t have any treats to share.” I said, turning to leave.

“You kidding?” asked the blonde boy, holding up the call numbers to the fungi book that I had written down for him. “You gave me the best bite of the whole day. How long till you are going to be done with that book?” He asked, a little too eagerly.

“How about a week.” I said.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to wait that long. That is the first book I have wanted to read in about…” He closed his eyes and counted on his fingers. “Seventeen years.” The boys all laughed.

“I would hate to stand in the way of your learning. Ok. How about five days?” I asked.

“I am just a poor homeless boy.” He said, letting his eyes droop.

“Really? I think that you should take acting lessons, droopy eyed boy.”

“Come on lady. You aren’t going to make me wait, are you?”

“Sure am. Tell you what. You meet me at the library next week at this same time, and I will show you how to use the computers. You can do a search so that you can find each and every book in the library’s collection that has the word ‘sex’ in the title.”

The three boys perked right up. “You’re kidding. You can do that here? You sure?”

I laughed. “They call it freedom of speech. But. Be careful you don’t make anyone mad in there. They WILL throw you out.”

“The soup kitchen can wait. We got learning to do.” The boys jumped to their feet and started a slow run towards the library. They were bonded in a sudden thirst for knowledge.

The blonde boy turned around in answer to my rolling laughter. “Hey lady. Thanks for the thought.”

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About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com

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