The Hidden Treasure Beneath My Library

A true tale of books, librarians, a secret, and more books

I remember the city’s public library as a vast, intimidating building with a seemingly endless series of steps ascending to three different floors.

Of course, as I was only seven, any large building felt gigantic. But I think the modernist architecture was also to blame. It imbued the library with a feeling of coldness and severity.

This was not the place for running up and down the stairs or talking loudly among the book stacks. It was a place for people who were serious about their books and wanted to read in absolute silence. They would have preferred to live in the library all day long rather than going to work or school.

In fact, unlike the little public library in the little town where I lived, this library had its own auditorium and even a café in the lobby.

“But I thought you weren’t allowed to eat in libraries,” I remember saying to my mother as I stared at her wide-eyed when she bought me a bagel with cream cheese in the library café.

My mother explained quite logically that since the café was in the lobby and outside the book stacks, it didn’t break any library rules. And wasn’t it nice to be able to sit at a table while she enjoyed a coffee…