The President's Letter

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      There are a lot of wondrous things in books...like, stories and pictures that transport us to places and feelings we might not otherwise have the opportunity to visit. But, not all the amazing contents of books are printed on their pages.

      Throughout the ages, books have served as a hidden cache for the storage of money, special documents, personal secrets, and even pressed flowers that commemorate a special moment in someone’s life. 

      Having lived through the Great Depression, my grandparents often relied on books as a preferred alternative to banks to deposit some of their money. And, they weren’t alone. Not too long ago, one of our volunteer book sorters came across thousands of dollars in the pages of a book that was most likely donated to the Friends after an estate sale.

      Even more recently I discovered a different type of treasure in a very old book that was rescued from the recycling bin at the library to become part of one of the “Christmas Book Trees” we sell to raise money for the library. It was a handwritten letter on a small piece of paper by an almost seven-year-old girl named Mary Mohr from Sherman, MI on January 13, 1902.

      In the wobbly script of an eager child, she excitedly shared with her cousin, Lena, a description of the gifts she and other family members had received for Christmas. Simple items like a ring, a sled, a doll, a chair, and a cup and saucer that were undoubtedly treasures in a small rural town at the turn of the 20th century.

      There were no telephones, social media or even cars to help connect them to each other. So, the simple act of receiving a scribbled note from someone was a cherished moment in Lena’s life. And, she treated it as such by storing it and several other notes, poems and schoolwork in one of the safest places she knew of...a book.

      Somehow, the simplicity and sincerity of Mary’s words, written more than 123 years ago, and Lena’s book filing system simultaneously evoked feelings of gratitude for how far we’ve come and longing for the lost innocence that has accompanied that progress.

      I’m fairly certain that Mary and Lena had no idea how they would affect a perfect stranger many generations removed from them. But, I thank them for their serendipitous reminder of the many roles books have played in providing a safe haven for the things that matter to us.

--Joe David

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