My love of books all began when I was a young girl. I actually began to read while at nursery school and today, my Mum still loves to tell the tale that I once read a story to all the toddlers in the group. I am not sure if I can vaguely recollect the actual event or if my memory has just reproduced the happening from hearing about it so many times.
I do remember quite clearly visiting the library on regular occasions in young childhood. These are very fond memories. I can still picture the children’s section of the library, which was arranged in a separate room. Ingrained in my memory are the miniature mushroom style chairs, painted in red, surrounding small tables. This furniture was just perfect for all the little people in the town to enjoy their reading. The library walls were also decorated in a suitable manner for junior visitors. In those days, one did not have to pay for the use of the public library and I remember having three cards with my name on, which I used to borrow the books.
In the early days, my Mum would choose the books on my behalf, but it did not take long for me to prefer to make this wonderful choice for myself. After all, there were so many attractive alternatives. The library visit was there for me to take my pick out of the wide selection available and thus create my own little fantasy world.
