My daughter’s school was the host of a used book sale yesterday. The flyer had come home a few months ago asking for donations. I knew families and teachers were clearing out shelves. Forced to be discerning about which to keep and which to let free.
3 for $1!!!! the latest flyer and Facebook post called out in big letters. We are drowning in books at our house but there’s always room for more right? Off we set to the school.
Upon entering Maddie and I split ways and were diving into our own stacks before you could blink an eye.
Calling out to one another about a gem that just had to be rescued. She on the hunt for certain chapter books and I perusing with the first inklings of new classroom library in the corner of my mind.
The prospect of heading back to the full time land of children is all together exhilarating and terrifying.
But books are my jam, so naturally I start there.
As I shift through stacks I am taken back to titles so familiar I have to open the front cover to see if my name is stamped there.
I see titles mixed in that I know for certain are or were on the shelves in the bookroom I work to maintain.
I easily find the teaching gems and start to use my very handy seven year old for book recommendations.
The exhilaration grows as my stack increases and while edges of me are still terrified, I take comfort in the fact that even towns over, the books are the same.
Despite all the change, there’s enough of the same to build on.