Library

I’m on an errand with Xavier, who is three and a half years old. We pass by the Library and he remarks, “There’s the library. It’s where a lot of good books live. And some not so good ones.”

Allow me to share my two thoughts on his remarks.

First – there’s the obvious. He is aware of bad books. This sort of saddens me, because his world is populated with books by Dr. Seuss. He shouldn’t be aware of “bad books” at this age – let’s save that for his teenage years when he questions some of his literary choices.

The second thing I was struck with was his notion that books are live. He could have easily said “were a lot of good books are” but he chose “live” instead. The concept of death has yet to strike home for him. I will wait a while before I introduce him to Fahrenheit 451.