RIP Beverly Cleary

    Early in my school career, I discovered my favorite of all places in whatever school I was attending at the time - the library. I absolutely loved the library.  What I remember of kindergarten library visits were mostly the picture books (what else can you read in kindergarten) but by first grade,  I remember visiting and being able to borrow a book. For free!! As long as you returned it two weeks later.

    We moved before second grade and that was when my fondness for the school library really took off. Because I was considered “advanced” as a learner - perhaps because I actually paid attention in first grade - I was able to get additional library privileges. This meant I could go pretty much whenever I wanted - which I did.  And I read and read. So much so that, by the time I was in sixth grade, I was asked to help the librarian choose new books by being able to preview the new ones that had just come in.  What a thrill for a library lover like me.

    Later, in junior high school, I ventured beyond the usual fiction and non-fiction fare, and explored biographies of those who were far less known to me. One in particular - Alone by Richard Byrd - stood out. I always wondered what it would be like to live completely alone under the ice.  Perhaps that was inspired by my two brothers and one sister, ensuring I didn’t know what “alone” meant.

    By high school, the library had gotten bigger and I had discovered the music room - a huge room full of records, more than I could ever imagine. I started borrowing them and, thanks to the arrival of a new cassette recorder, I started to expand my own music library - while still stopping by to borrow a book from time to time.

    What inspired this trip down memory lane was the news this week that Beverly Cleary, the creator of my all time favorite character, Henry Huggins, had died at the age of 104. Of all the books I borrowed as a kid, none excited me as much as the Cleary books. I loved them. The stories were relatable, the characters were realistic and funny and they were just a good way to pass the time. I remember wishing I could live with the Huggins family on Kilkitat Street - it just seemed like a better place to live than wherever I was at the time.

    Beverly Cleary was an inspiration to me, and one that I still call upon today as a teacher. I remember buying my own children their copies of the Cleary classics (“Here, read these. You’ll love them” I said. And along came Harry Potter to prove me wrong.)  Cleary was a living link back to my childhood. I thought she’d live forever.

    It’s  been, in all honesty, only a few months since I last read one of her stories. Henry and the Paper Route to be precise. I think I’ll take one down from the shelf tonight and take another trip down memory lane.  Rest in peace, Mrs. Cleary. And thank you for everything.