Forty-eight

“I finished Ms. Rebecca.”

“My gosh, that was so fast.” I take the book out of the small hands of little Patricia. Today she’s in pigtails, a little crocked from her constant play. “How many books have you read this week?”

“Two.” She shows with her small fingers and smiles wide.

“You want another?”

“My momma said I could take one more.” I look up at the smiling woman standing back a few steps. She’s teaching her to be independent and the small 7-year-old is thriving. At least with the trusty young librarian.

“How about something scary?” I look at the mom before handing her the book we had already discussed while the child had been in class.

“Is it too scary?” The girl pulls her hands back and turns to her mother.

“Is just a little bit.” I place the book on the counter and wait for her to make the decision. “Or there’s a not scary one I think you’d like.” I watch amused as her forehead creases, she’s thinking hard and the smile as she takes the copy of Sam Wu is Not Afraid of Gh