Page 3 of Storytime and Sawdust

Liam's face brightens. "Really?"

"Really really. And your pig looks amazing." I give him a conspiratorial wink. "I think it's the best one at the table."

By the time we finish our puppets and perform an impromptu Three Little Pigs sequel (featuring a reformed wolf who becomes a vegetarian), my voice is hoarse and glitter somehow covers every surface within a ten-foot radius. But the children's faces—flushed with creativity and joy—make it all worthwhile.

"Same time Thursday, book worms!" I call as parents collect craft projects and sleepy toddlers.

"Thank you, Ms. Harper!" they chorus back, a few running over for quick hugs before departing.

As the room empties, I begin the familiar cleanup routine, humming under my breath. Paper scraps, glue stick caps, forgotten hair clips—all the evidence of a morning well spent.

"Need help with the glitter apocalypse?"

I look up to see Diana, our reference librarian, leaning against the doorframe.

"I've accepted that glitter is just part of my DNA now," I laugh, brushing sparkles from my skirt. "I found some in my cereal this morning from last week's fairy tale session."

Diana grabs a broom. "Hazard of being the favorite librarian. Kids would follow you home if they could."

"They just love stories." I wipe tables, collecting stray googly eyes.

"No, they love you," Diana corrects, sweeping. "You bring books alive without bribes or threats."

I blush. "It's my favorite part—when a child connects with a story."

"About your magic touch," Diana says, "Elaine wants you on the children's nook renovation committee. Requested you specifically."

My heart skips. "Really? I thought that was just for department heads and board members."

"She said, and I quote, 'Molly knows what makes a space special for children better than anyone else here.'" Diana grins. "Plus, I think she's hoping you'll charm potential contractors into giving us discounts."

"Ha! My powers of persuasion only work on people under four feet tall." I dump a handful of paper scraps into the recycling bin, mind already racing with possibilities. "But I'd love to help. That back corner has so much potential—it just needs the right touch."

"The first meeting is next Friday. They're reviewing artisan submissions for the custom furniture."

"Custom furniture?" My excitement bubbles over. "Like built-in reading nooks? Maybe a storytelling throne? Oh! What about little hidey-holes where the quiet kids can tuck away with books?"

Diana laughs. "This is exactly why Elaine wants you there. Most people see empty space—you see possibilities."

After finishing cleanup and grabbing lunch at my desk (while simultaneously answering emails and planning next week's ocean-themed storytime), I spend the afternoon helping patrons and reshelving the picture book section. By closing time, my feet ache pleasantly, and my mind buzzes with ideas for the renovation.

The drive home to my little craftsman bungalow takes just twelve minutes—one of the perks of small-town living. Inside, I'm greeted by Winston, my orange tabby, who meows indignantly about his dinner being four minutes late.

"Yes, Your Majesty, right away," I tell him, dropping my tote bag overflowing with books by the door. "Heaven forbid you starve after only having breakfast and lunch."

While Winston crunches his kibble, I change into leggings and my favorite oversized sweater, the soft blue one with thumb holes that my sister says makes me look like I'm "drowning in fabric" but feels like wearing a hug. Comfort over style wins every time when I'm home alone.

After heating up leftover lasagna, I curl up on my window seat with my journal—a habit I've maintained since childhood. The leather-bound book feels substantial in my hands as I flip to a fresh page.

Tuesday, October 12th

Bignews! Joining the selection committee for the children's area renovation. Finally, a chance to create my dream reading space for our little ones! Thinking warm woods, secret nooks, maybe a canopy? Something magical that transports kids into their favorite stories.

Storytime was wonderful today. Emma requested "Three Little Pigs" three times, and Liam's finally emerging from his shell. His parents mentioned moving here after a difficult year - seeing him smile during puppet-making nearly made me cry.

This is why I love my job. Creating safe spaces where children feel seen and stories come alive. If only...

My pen hovers over the page. I take a deep breath and continue.

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