For as long as I can remember I've loved libraries. There's just something soothing about the floor to ceiling shelves lined with countless stories yet to be discovered. When I was little my mother would bring me and we would borrow out all number of picture books. When I got older I came by myself. I spend hours hauled up in one of the quiet lounge-like areas, reading. And the entire time I've been visiting the library the same old man has sat in the same chair, reading. Every time I see him, he has a new book.
This old man fascinated me; how could he be happy spending all his days alone? Admittedly he was in a library but surely he needed some company.
xXxXx
After I finished school I took a job at the library and still the old man came, sat in the same chair and read. All day, every day he came and sat and read. One day I was returning books to their shelves and the old man caught my eye. I was unable to contain my curiosity any longer. I placed the books on a small table and approached him. "Excuse me, Sir?" The old man slowly lifted his intent gaze away from the page and up to my face. "Yes?" he said, in a voice stronger than I had expected. "I do not mean to intrude but I've have been coming to this library since I was little and every time I come I see you here, in this chair with a book." A smile graced the old man's face and he closed his book and motioned for me to take a seat. I did and he said, "I do not mind. What is it you want to know?" I took in a deep breath and asked, "You must have family and friends but you are here every day. Why is that?" He closed his eyes and exhaled softly. When he opened his eyes, he said:
"I do not have any family. My wife died many years ago and my children have grown and moved away. As for friends they are gone too. You see, you get to a certain age and everything you knew and loved has gone, changed or passed you by. But that is not the case with books. A book never leaves, it never changes and it always waits for you to catch up. The characters welcome you with open arms and give you a glimpse into their world. For an old man like me books are an escape for the everyday. You can go anywhere, do anything and all without leaving this library. Books let you get lost within their pages until you have to find your way out. You see books keep you young, both in mind and spirit. When I read I'm not an old man; rather I am a boy with all the energy and strength in the world."
He sighed deeply and turned his attention back to his book. I stood, in utter wonder for I had never met anyone who had such a love for books.
xXxXx
In the months to follow I grew quite fond of the old man. He told me stories of his youth, and of the numerous books he had read. In my spare time I would join him and we would read in contented silence. He never ceased to amaze me; despite his age he was full of life and hope, wonder and joy.
All too soon, though, he was gone.
Life continued but his chair remained empty. I have never forgotten him or his love of books. In fact when we opened the new wing of the library a bronze plaque was hung in his honour. It read:
This wing is dedicated to Peter; a man who refused to grow old.