Nostalgia.

The excitement is building. You are about to cross through those doors. Those doors that you just crossed through this past Monday. You are 7 years old with a miles long list of all of the books you plan on devouring for the rest of the week.

It is interesting when you are that age. When all of your Mother's hard work has paid off. Her sentimental selection of books she read to you every day. Firing neurons. Sparking imagination, creating empathy for others and teaching you the importance of stories. All of this, by just reading words and sentences to you every day since you were born.

The science has backed up the importance of parents and guardians reading to their children for years, now. That it is an important asset to brain formation, building societal skills, logic and of course...giving birth to a book worm.

But, going back to seven years old. Holding the list, the one that is one mile long. Smelling the air of musty pages...you know the smell, very well. Turning left once you get through the doors to find the book that is always at the top of your list. You know, the one you check out every single time. The one about strange weather, Ancient Egypt, supernatural happenings, a black cat during World War II named Blitz. Grabbing the other 100 books that are like water to survive and taking them to the circulation desk. Nerves fluttering to just get them home to read.

Not many things in this world can hold a bright candle to that flutter. The flutter of being a kid, that loves books, in a library, getting to carry a large pile of them home.

All of this in thanks to the Mothers, Fathers, Guardians and Grandparents out there who knew the importance of teaching a child to read, and to teach that very special souls go to the library.