But like Robert Frost, who was also praised for poems about the outdoors that seemed plain and straightforward, Oliver’s verse reveals, upon closer scrutiny, deeper and more complex themes. Part of the reason, one gathers, is that Oliver writes poems about nature that are simple and easy to understand – or at least appear to be at first glance. Although Americans buy and read very little poetry, Oliver’s slender collections, such as “Dog Songs” and “A Thousand Mornings,” have enjoyed popular appeal. Several years ago, Mary Oliver became that rare paradox, a bestselling poet. For children in particular, an interest in reading could blossom into a love for reading, opening incalculable future doors.And some of those doors might very well be attached to the brick-and-mortar library itself.Patty Eastin, a Jefferson City resident who stopped by the library, summed it up this way: “I’ve always felt at home in a library.” With “Book Box,” readers can explore a personalized selection of titles packed just for them – think Stitch Fix for books. These strategies bring the gifts of the library to people who may lack transportation or time to wander the aisles themselves. So they have several initiatives designed to extend the library’s reach, including a brightly colored bus dubbed the “Bookmobile” that makes frequent excursions to places such as schools and malls.The library system maintains lockers at the local mall, allowing cardholders to select items online and pick them up in what’s perhaps a more convenient location.A third innovation borrows from subscription programs that pair personal stylists with clothing buyers. Not every child is so fortunate, especially nowadays.The librarians I met at the Missouri River Regional Library in Jefferson City while reporting today’s cover story are keenly aware of how difficult it can be for some families to access their stacks.
(If you sense an animal theme, I’m guilty as charged.)The library visits sparked wonder and imagination – and were only made possible by a parent who could take us. It’s how I met the venerable Clifford, Arthur, and Berenstain Bears. But the real joy – and first taste of independence – came afterward when our mom would let us wander the aisles choosing new books to check out. What I do remember are regular trips to the public library in Merrillville, Indiana, with my mom and twin sister.We’d enter the book fortress and make a beeline for the children’s floor upstairs. I grew up in the era of Toys R Us, when Geoffrey the Giraffe beckoned kids from across the parking lot or through the television screen to a wonderland that seemed to offer every toy imaginable. Yet, other than a vague recollection of toy-filled aisles, I have no specific memory attached to that store.
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