What is your first memory of a library? I can share mine, even have some evidence for it. There is still a faded photo in an old newspaper clip in Mom's drawer, a picture of children listening to fairy tales read at a small library. I'm perhaps five years old and concentrate on every detail of the story about The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse.
I'm proud sitting in the front row and eager to discuss the story with the adult reading it. I wasn't distracted by the fact that my home-knitted woolen pants had the most oversized badges ever over my knees. This occasion was meaningful to me in many respects. I became a great friend of libraries and reading. Later, after a career as a lawyer, I even dedicated myself to the most meaningful writing task of my life: children's books.
The next big occasion took place in my second library, just one room in the village school building. I had just started school and received my very own Library Card. I borrowed piles of books to read at home. The first two books were significant. Astrid Lindgren's book Brenda Brave Helps Grandmother (in Finnish: Taina Tomera auttaa mummia) was the inspiration when my daughter was named decades later.
The second book I borrowed from that little library talked about swans. My little sister tore its beautiful pages off. Mom fixed them back by taping, and I had to explain the situation to the librarian. The apology was sincere, and I was allowed to keep my Library Card. Over the next decade, I used it a lot as the library got more extensive facilities and more books. I became a regular customer and spent hours there, several days a week.
Life took me later to many kinds of libraries, very different from the modest first ones. I still want to mention two important libraries. As I was studying law and later, after some decades, making my doctor's thesis, I became a customer at the University Library of Helsinki, the National Library of Finland, and the Library of Parliament. Sitting in their research chambers and wandering between the shelves filled with wisdom, I felt small.
Knowing how much there is to read and how short the life of one human being is, makes me humble and insufficient. I try to calm myself down. It's not how much you read, but what you read and how you understand it. The same applies to writing.
As a children's author, I feel responsible for the books I write for the world's children. My stories stream from libraries and bookshops to nurseries, homes, and schools. Hopefully, they will have a warm impact on young minds and help children in their adult lives, too.
Happy reading – let the words fly and flow!