In response to the Ottawa Public Library’s request for library experiences:

My father got me a card for the Saint John library when I was twelve, but I never used it, because we left that city soon afterward.

My father got me my next library card when I was thirteen. We had just moved to the City of Westmount, P.Q., and my card entitled me to use the Westmount library, which is on the edge of Westmount Park. It is an imposing building. I was directed to the Children’s Section. There I remember reading Busy, the Life of a Bee, The Wizard of Oz (and its sequel - which was disappointing), and true adventures of explorers and voyageurs in Canada and the United States. Being a fast reader, I soon finished everything of interest to me and applied to the adult section.

It took me a while to persuade the librarian to accept me, and then only to the adventure section, which included The Man in the Iron Mask, and The Three Musketeers. Now I wonder why I was not allowed to read the History or Geography Sections.

Before I started school, aged six, I knew the alphabet from letters on our breakfast cereal boxes, because my mother had been patient enough to answer my questions at home. I was a week late in beginning and the class had reached the letter ‘M’, but I was ahead of them. She helped me with spelling until I could find my way in the family dictionary, and then I was on my own. My father would not allow me to read text that he felt was of poor quality. That included `The Bobsey Twins’. I persuaded him to let me read just one because all my friends had and were discussing it. He gave in for that purpose only. I soon realized that his verdict was correct. When my parents joined `The Book of the Month Club’ I was allowed to read them all. The only forbidden one was `Gone with the Wind’. I was around twelve. Of course, I read it anyway, when my parents were out. Looking back, I think my father didn’t want me to know about the irregular activities of the main male character. Perhaps the aftermath of battle was not suitable either, in his eyes.

Since my marriage, I have lived in Ottawa, and soon joined the Ottawa Public Library. My daughter believes that I have read at least 11,000 library books since then.

I usually read a novel in four or five hours, sometimes less. It depends on the quality of the writing, and whether it calls for thought.

At certain periods of my life, I was doing research into town planning and other such subjects, but I do not include those hours in this count. They required a lot of scanning, as well.

Aside from their use for research purposes, libraries have been invaluable to me. They have saved me from depression by transporting me far away from my normal worries; they have given me insight into minds and experiences unlike my own. They have been useful preliminaries to travel, helping me to know what to explore on arrival. I like to know the history of countries and their cities that I have not seen before.

One must read with caution, however.

Coming from a vast country like Canada, visiting a tiny one like Luxembourg is enlightening. While I was there, there were so many little villages at the base of castles, it seemed large, but now I realize that it is only the length of the distance between Ottawa and Kazabazua. Less than an hour’s drive. It can be deceiving, only reading about a European country by one of its inhabitants.

Nowadays, I only read in the evening. At this moment, I have a mix of mystery writers, the Women’s Rights Movements in North America, frivolous entertainment, fiction set in mediaeval times, walking long distances in Northern Europe…

Although I am 101 years old, I seem likely to be around for a while yet. Just not walking those long distances.