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I had a mother who read me things
That wholesome life to a child’s heart brings
Stories that stir with an upward touch.
Oh that every Mother were such! (from “The Reading Mother” by Strickland Gillilan)
As a child, my mother played librarian, organizing her books and placing homemade cards and due date notices in them, and checking them out to whoever she could find. I suspect her mother and dolls were her best patrons. But she knew every early on that her life’s calling revolved around books so it was no surprise that when she went to Emporia State (then Kansas State Teacher’s College) she received her bachelor’s degree in library science.
Her first job out of college was at the Mulvane Children’s Library on the statehouse grounds in Topeka. She loved working with the children and their parents and saw firsthand the inequality of “separate but equal,” something she never forgot and a topic that would reduce her to tears. As a librarian, she knew the importance of treating all patrons the same and seeing how society failed to do that to significant portions of the population made her determined to buck the trend and she never discriminated against anyone because of their ethnicity.
Times being what they were in the 1950’s, she quit her job when she married my father but continued her love for books and made sure that my sister and I became readers. Elaine remembers that we were allowed to read whenever we wanted — except at the dinner table. I have vivid memories of walking to the table, my nose in a book, and only reluctantly putting it on the chair to sit on when my father came to the table. That was probably the only way she could keep me from sneaking a peek. I still have my copy of “Winnie-the-Pooh” that I received for Christmas one year, no gift-receiving event was complete without at least one book being placed in my hands.
When she returned to the work force it was as a school librarian. I joked that she should have been named “Typhoid Alberta” since every school she worked in — Washington, Eugene Field and Lincoln — has since closed. She enjoyed getting books into the hands of the students and particularly loved reading to them. Every December she did her rendition of “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever,” delighting Ferne Small one year when she unconsciously substituted the name of a local family for the Herdmans. Apparently no one else caught her faux pas.
During the past few years I became her primary source for books and often picked things without always giving much thought — until one evening when she tentatively asked, “Have you read this book before?” “No, it just looked like something you’d like.” “Oh, well, there are a lot of four-letter words in it and I just wondered.”
Now, she knew I wouldn’t let her read the Sweet Potato Queens books so really, would I knowingly take her a book with lots of #@*$ and &!^ on every page? Since I could never convince her to stop reading any book she didn’t like — really people, it’s OK — she plodded on because, as she said, “Well, it’s a good story. I just don’t know why they have to talk like that.”
After taking part in the library’s centennial reading program, my mother got into the habit of keeping track of the books she read. But she didn’t just write down titles and authors but used a rating system and annotations. She was not a particularly picky reader, as the above story illustrates, and was game for just about anything as long as the story didn’t use flashbacks, dream sequences, multiple plot lines or graphic language or scenes. She loved talking books, sharing titles with various Pink Ladies she visited with on her cardiac rehab days, and her circle of friends.
Since baking was her other passion (anyone who attended a library program during the past 17 years no doubt enjoyed the fruits of her culinary labors), she loved pouring over cookbooks (Paula Deen being her favorite), and she jotted down several recipes from the latest Gooseberry Patch Christmas cookbook to fix for Bill and Liz Nix when they were here over Labor Day weekend.
Over the summer she discovered Adriana Trigiani and devoured all of her books, declaring after each one, “Oh, that was her best one yet!” She also enjoyed “The Crowning Glory of Calla Lily Ponder” by Rebecca Wells and “Hannah’s Dream” by Diane Hammond. The last book she read (actually re-read) was “The Guernesy Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society” by Annie Shaffer and was most disappointed that she wasn’t able to make it to the October book discussion. But she had her own impromptu discussion with Judy Garner on the afternoon she delivered mail to her hospital room so she felt included.
After my father’s death, she made notes about various things she wanted in her funeral service and there was one passage from Fannie Flagg’s novel, “Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven,” that she was adamant about including (those in attendance will attest that Rev. Owsley had gotten those exact orders — and followed them). That was one of the books she read more than once and I think it helped provide her with the peace she had that final day, knowing full well that she’d be met by loved ones awaiting her arrival. And I know that she would have been ever so pleased — in a humbling sort of way — that her passing was noted by not one but four Kansas authors who sent lovely notes to me. She delighted in being able to say she knew “real” writers — especially when she liked their books (and that was certainly the case with Suzanne, Roy, J.T. and Max).
The joke in the family was that while I looked like my mother, I thought like my father, but he would be the first to admit that she was the driving force when it came to books and reading. I can’t imagine going through life without the company of books (second only to the company of dogs) and don’t recall a time when I couldn’t read. And that is all due to one woman.
You may have tangible wealth untold
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be.
I had a Mother who read to me.
Alberta Robb, January 2, 1925 — October 28, 2009. May you rest — and read — in peace.
I had a mother who read me things
That wholesome life to a child’s heart brings
Stories that stir with an upward touch.
Oh that every Mother were such! (from “The Reading Mother” by Strickland Gillilan)
As a child, my mother played librarian, organizing her books and placing homemade cards and due date notices in them, and checking them out to whoever she could find. I suspect her mother and dolls were her best patrons. But she knew every early on that her life’s calling revolved around books so it was no surprise that when she went to Emporia State (then Kansas State Teacher’s College) she received her bachelor’s degree in library science.
Her first job out of college was at the Mulvane Children’s Library on the statehouse grounds in Topeka. She loved working with the children and their parents and saw firsthand the inequality of “separate but equal,” something she never forgot and a topic that would reduce her to tears. As a librarian, she knew the importance of treating all patrons the same and seeing how society failed to do that to significant portions of the population made her determined to buck the trend and she never discriminated against anyone because of their ethnicity.
Times being what they were in the 1950’s, she quit her job when she married my father but continued her love for books and made sure that my sister and I became readers. Elaine remembers that we were allowed to read whenever we wanted — except at the dinner table. I have vivid memories of walking to the table, my nose in a book, and only reluctantly putting it on the chair to sit on when my father came to the table. That was probably the only way she could keep me from sneaking a peek. I still have my copy of “Winnie-the-Pooh” that I received for Christmas one year, no gift-receiving event was complete without at least one book being placed in my hands.
When she returned to the work force it was as a school librarian. I joked that she should have been named “Typhoid Alberta” since every school she worked in — Washington, Eugene Field and Lincoln — has since closed. She enjoyed getting books into the hands of the students and particularly loved reading to them. Every December she did her rendition of “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever,” delighting Ferne Small one year when she unconsciously substituted the name of a local family for the Herdmans. Apparently no one else caught her faux pas.
During the past few years I became her primary source for books and often picked things without always giving much thought — until one evening when she tentatively asked, “Have you read this book before?” “No, it just looked like something you’d like.” “Oh, well, there are a lot of four-letter words in it and I just wondered.”
Now, she knew I wouldn’t let her read the Sweet Potato Queens books so really, would I knowingly take her a book with lots of #@*$ and &!^ on every page? Since I could never convince her to stop reading any book she didn’t like — really people, it’s OK — she plodded on because, as she said, “Well, it’s a good story. I just don’t know why they have to talk like that.”
After taking part in the library’s centennial reading program, my mother got into the habit of keeping track of the books she read. But she didn’t just write down titles and authors but used a rating system and annotations. She was not a particularly picky reader, as the above story illustrates, and was game for just about anything as long as the story didn’t use flashbacks, dream sequences, multiple plot lines or graphic language or scenes. She loved talking books, sharing titles with various Pink Ladies she visited with on her cardiac rehab days, and her circle of friends.
Since baking was her other passion (anyone who attended a library program during the past 17 years no doubt enjoyed the fruits of her culinary labors), she loved pouring over cookbooks (Paula Deen being her favorite), and she jotted down several recipes from the latest Gooseberry Patch Christmas cookbook to fix for Bill and Liz Nix when they were here over Labor Day weekend.
Over the summer she discovered Adriana Trigiani and devoured all of her books, declaring after each one, “Oh, that was her best one yet!” She also enjoyed “The Crowning Glory of Calla Lily Ponder” by Rebecca Wells and “Hannah’s Dream” by Diane Hammond. The last book she read (actually re-read) was “The Guernesy Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society” by Annie Shaffer and was most disappointed that she wasn’t able to make it to the October book discussion. But she had her own impromptu discussion with Judy Garner on the afternoon she delivered mail to her hospital room so she felt included.
After my father’s death, she made notes about various things she wanted in her funeral service and there was one passage from Fannie Flagg’s novel, “Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven,” that she was adamant about including (those in attendance will attest that Rev. Owsley had gotten those exact orders — and followed them). That was one of the books she read more than once and I think it helped provide her with the peace she had that final day, knowing full well that she’d be met by loved ones awaiting her arrival. And I know that she would have been ever so pleased — in a humbling sort of way — that her passing was noted by not one but four Kansas authors who sent lovely notes to me. She delighted in being able to say she knew “real” writers — especially when she liked their books (and that was certainly the case with Suzanne, Roy, J.T. and Max).
The joke in the family was that while I looked like my mother, I thought like my father, but he would be the first to admit that she was the driving force when it came to books and reading. I can’t imagine going through life without the company of books (second only to the company of dogs) and don’t recall a time when I couldn’t read. And that is all due to one woman.
You may have tangible wealth untold
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be.
I had a Mother who read to me.
Alberta Robb, January 2, 1925 — October 28, 2009. May you rest — and read — in peace.
NEW BOOKS
NEW FICTION
“First Lord’s Fury,” Jim Butcher; “Crisis,” David Poyer; “Wrecker,” Clive Cussler; “Under the Dome,” Stephen King; “Blue and Gray Christmas,” Joan Medlicott; “Christmas Cake,” Lynn Hinton; “Rumpole Christmas,” John Mortimer; “New York,” Edward Rutherfurd; “Great Christmas Bowl,” Susan May Warren; “Christmas Cookie Club,” Ann Pearlman; “Ice,” Linda Howard; “Christmas Secret,” Donna VanLiere; “Born of Fire,” Sherrilyn Kenyon; “Breathless,” Dean Koontz; “Pirate Latitudes,” Michael Crichton; “Wishin’ and Hopin’,” Wally Lamb; “Gift,” Cecelia Ahern; “Day the Falls Stood Still,” Cathy Buchanan; “Paris Vendetta,” Steve Berry; “Green,” Ted Dekker; “No Less Than Victory,” Jeff Shaara; “Carousel Painter,” Judith Miller; “First Daughter,” Eric Lustrbader; “Darth Bane: Dynasty of Evil,” Drew Karpyshyn; “War Dances,” Sherman Alexie; “La’s Orchestra Saves the World,” Alexander McCall Smith; “Too Many Murders,” Colleen McCullough; “Disciple,” Stephen Coonts; “Divine Misdemeanors,” Laurell K. Hamilton; “At the Queen’s Summons” and “At the King’s Command,” Susan Wiggs.
NEW MYSTERY
“O Jerusalem,” Laurie P. King; “U Is for Undertow,” Sue Grafton; “Touch of Dead,” Charlaine Harris; “End of the Road,” Sue Henry; “Necessary as Blood,” Deborah Crombie; “Tragedy at Two,” Ann Purser; “Catered Birthday Party,” Isis Crawford; “Trial by Fire,” J.A. Jance; “Alone,” Loren Estleman; “Final Exam,” Maggie Barbieri; “Murder on the Cliffs,” Joanna Challis; “Hollywood Moon,” Joseph Wambaugh; “Bone Dry,” “Buck Fever,” “Flat Crazy” and “Gun Shy,” all by Ben Rehder.
NEW NONFICTION
“What the Dog Saw,” Malcolm Gladwell; “Road Out of Hell,” Anthony Flacco; “Big Burn,” Timothy Egan; “My Delicious Life,” Paula Deen with Michael Groover; “Ace of Cakes,” Duff Goldman; “Superfreakonomics,” Steven Levitt; “Stones into Schools,” Greg Mortenson; “Mennonite in a Little Black Dress,” Rhoda Janzen; “Molly Ivins: A Rebel Life,” Bill Minutaglio; “Last Words,” George Carlin; “Literary Life,” Larry McMurtry; “You: Having a Baby,” Michael Roizen; “Comeback 2.0,” Lance Armstrong; “Going Rogue,” Sarah Palin; “Amelia Earhart: The Thrill of It,” Susan Wels; “Cleaving,” Julie Powell; “Boy Who Harnessed the Wind,” William Kamkwamba; “Gift of Thanks,” Margaret Visser; “Adoption Decision,” Laura Christianson; “Complete Book of International Adoption,” Dawn Davenport; “Truth About Psychics,” Sylvia Browne; “Pioneer Woman Cooks,” Ree Drummond.
NEW LARGE PRINT
“Christmas Promise,” Anne Perry; “Scarpetta Factor,” Patricia Cornwell.
NEW DVDS
“Julie and Julia,” “Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian.”
Carol Ann Robb is the adult services librarian at the Pittsburg Public Library.
