The Europe Challenge

Her husband was dead. She had been off work in the library for weeks to look after him. In the beginning she missed meeting the children. She was the children’s librarian. She missed the conversations. It was easy to talk to kids. They were so direct. ‘Why did you get your hair cut?’, ‘How old are you?’ She loved shocking them with her age. They looked at her as if she was ancient. Sometimes she informed seven-year-olds that her grandfather helped build the Titanic. Which was true but she was not sure it was her granddad’s fault it sank. It did impress young readers though and they looked at her as if she came from a totally different century—which she did.

Her job entailed visiting the health clinic, meeting all the new mums (and dads for that matter), telling them about the importance of reading to their children, the importance of reading themselves so the children were surrounded by readers, the importance of reducing their own screen time and focusing on the new babies in their care. Sometimes she felt like a nagging old schoolteacher, but most of the time she was able to inspire, encourage, and enthuse them to be the main part of their child’s language development. She loved that side of her job. Making sure as many people as possible had library cards and knew how to use them. Every few months the health clinic visited the library with the new parents. Just to make sure they knew exactly where it was, how to get in, when it was open, where the changing table and toilets were. She would read board books to the babies, and they would sing songs together. It was so much fun. She loved children. She loved encouraging the parents. The fact was that she missed her own babies. They were all in their late thirties and early forties now with children of their own. She saw them often enough, but it was really the perk of her job to be an important part of these parents’ lives. Once the connection was made many of the parents came in at least once a week just to browse, show off their baby and get new books to bring home. She took honour in knowing the parents’ and children’s names. She loved greeting them as they walked in through the door. ‘Hi Sally’, ‘Hello Wincent, you’ve grown!’.

Apart from keeping the children’s section in order, making sure the books were in good condition, and replacing them with new books, she also invited the nearby schools to regular library visits. It had taken a while to get to know the teachers. Teachers seem to be terribly stressed with all sorts of administrative work as well as the teaching load and just generally trying to help youngsters survive their childhood. However, after many years as the children’s librarian she had made good relationships and was welcome at the school. All the Primary 1s came to the library with their form teacher at the beginning of their first term. She showed them the library, the different sections in the children’s area, read from new books, asked them what they were interested in, tried to make a connection with them, learning as many names as possible while talking to them. It wasn’t always easy. Some children today could hardly sit still on a chair let alone listen to an ancient lady in a room full of books, but most of the time she was able to capture their attention. She loved the last bit of her talk, she felt like the children’s librarian in Roald Dahl’s Mathilda: ‘Do you know you can get your own library card and take as many books as you want home?’. She saw the light in some children’s eyes when she said it was free. Some children couldn’t quite get round that and asked again, ‘How much does it cost to take the books home?’. And again she explained the whole concept. ‘We own these books together. They are your books (and mine).’ ‘So it doesn’t cost anything to take them home?’, a worried child would ask again. ‘Exactly’, she would reply and sense how for some children she had just opened a whole new world. She handed out the pink papers with the information on how to get a library card. You still needed your guardian’s consent and had to come back to the library with an adult. She had heard this was not necessary in some libraries but in hers it still was.

Her husband was dead. He had been seriously ill for months. He had been dying for weeks. The funeral was well planned, that’s what happens if you know you are going to die, which he had known for years. When he was eventually buried and her children went home, back to their own lives with the living, the void that opened up in her was vast. She had coped with the illness. Lived with it for years. It takes a long time to die and in the last year her spouse, the love of her life, her companion of 40 years, the father of her children, the grandfather of her grandchildren, was already gone, long before he finally died. She had been good at being a wife of an ill husband. She was not good at being a widow. The emptiness in her life and house was dense. She had been off work for weeks but one morning when she saw herself in the mirror, not sure when she had last combed her hair let alone washed it, she knew it was time to return. She phoned her boss. ‘Isn’t it a bit early. He hasn’t been dead long.’ She insisted and her boss said okay.

The morning she returned to her beloved library and children’s section she was nervous. She had coped with being at home by shutting the library out of her head. She wasn’t sure she would remember the names of her colleagues let alone the patrons. She held her head high as she opened the library door. Here I come. I am back in my life, she thought as she walked up the stairs. Her colleagues greeted her and of course she knew their names. Some gave her a hug, others were not sure how to handle a widow, something she was beginning to get used to. She put on her name badge and walked over to the children’s section. It looked okay. The books were in good order. They had been looked after while she had been gone.

The library opened and one of the first to walk in was a little boy from the last Primary 1 class to which she had given a library introduction. The boy was dragging an overweight, heavily tattooed man in his thirties behind him at the same time as waving the pink paper in his other hand. He walked straight over to her. It was as if she hadn’t been away. ‘My dad says I can get a library card if it doesn’t cost anything’, the boy almost shouted at her, he was so happy. ‘Shouldn’t you be in school?’, she asked. ‘We have the day off so I thought this is a good day to get a library card. It’s taken forever to convince him’, he added, and she realised he hadn’t been back since the library talk. So, he hadn’t even noticed she had been off work for weeks. ‘No it doesn’t cost anything. Maybe you would like one too’, she said to the father. He smiled at her, ‘Doesn’t it cost for adults?’. She explained how we all pay tax and how it is your right to have access to books and information and how important it is for children to read, to be read to and be surrounded by reading adults. ‘Yes, please. I didn’t realise.’ She filled out the forms on the computer for them and handed over the library cards. ‘Welcome to yourlibrary.’ As they walked over to the children’s section a young mum arrived and walked over to the board book section. ‘Hello Anne’, she said to the librarian. ‘I really need a library card, Lizzie loves books.’ ‘Hello Anna’, she replied, some names were easier than others to remember. ‘Let’s fix it straight away.’ Her colleagues were watching her. ‘You’ve only been back 20 minutes and have just sorted three new library cards. Welcome back!’. And she knew—she was back in her life. She had survived. She was back in her library.

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About the Author

Marianne Kvist (b. 1952) is a writer, teacher, art therapist, and librarian. She works as a school librarian in the village of Ödeshög, Sweden, where she lives with her husband. Together, they have 8 children and 23 grandchildren. She enjoys wild swimming, knitting, sewing, reading, writing, singing, painting, gardening, and spending time with family and friends.

Marrianne’s story is inspired by the Gränna library, where she used to be the Children´s Librarian.