Why

This, all of this, is for children. These are their books, their stories. Sometimes we adults forget how vital stories are to the life of a child. We start thinking about sentence structure and royalties and the politics of book banning. But then, in a quiet moment in the corner of a bookstore we see the intent face of a boy as he reads of adventure, and the delighted expression on an angelic face as she gazes at pictures of the beautiful fairy princess. And we remember what it was like to believe, to need stories much more than we needed air to breathe.

———

I have a confession.

While most people I know would be mortified to be caught doing something so silly, I walk into the store, turn on the lights, look around, and then flop down on the floor. Arms and legs sprawled whichever way, I let my mind go and just breathe. Minutes, hours later, my mind insists on returning, and I let it back in only because I know I'll be there again tomorrow, filling my lungs with the life of a place dedicated to the happiness of children.

Someday soon, I want to see you walk into my store, flop down in an empty space, and just breathe for a moment or two. I might have to join you.