All Things For a Reason

I had a meeting yesterday with a book store owner about them stocking the book and having a book signing. The owner was a lovely, rather quiet woman who made me feel very at home and graciously asked my opinion on several subjects. The meeting, was cordial, easy and very productive.
When I first got there I was asked to make myself comfortable on a couch in the middle of the children's section of the book store. I wandered over to the brightly colored section, where all the books were labeled in plastic tubs or arranged with their merchandise. It reminded me of Kindergarten class the way it was organized. The store is basically run by retired teachers. One look around and you see their long standing organizational skills everywhere. I did indeed, feel very comfortable among all the child like wonder of books and stories and related things.
Back when I was a small child, I was fortunate to spend time with my grandmother in the summer. She was a grade school teacher until she retired. I got to help with bulletin boards at her school. I helped tidy up her classroom and put away new and old books, and see all the things about my Grandma as a teacher that until then, I didn't know existed. Like every other adult in my child's life I had no concept of her job. She was just my grandma, which was just fine by me.
My grandmother used to take my sister and me to a store called Laughlin's. It was a book and stationary store downtown, in my hometown of Barberton, Ohio. I loved that store and would frequently beg to go with Grandma and see the children's books. The first book my grandma let me pick out from that store was a pop-up Cinderella book. It was beautifully illustrated with castles and dreamy images of white horses and Prince Charming. The unexpected thing for me was how much I like the way it smelled. I noticed that about the whole book store, too. I loved being there because of the way it smelled like new books. The minute I would walk in that store my nose began twitching with the smell of new books. I would hit the door running fast into the section held just for children's literature. I would run my tiny fingers over the bindings and breathe deep the perfect smell of words in ink on a pristine page. To this day I can conjure the memory of my Grandma's perfume mixed with the new book smell wafting around my nose in the book store, as I slowly walked up and down every isle. Just as the words were imprinted on the pages I gazed at, so were the sights and smells of that store imprinted in my memory.
Laughlin's is long gone, now, as are so many places from my childhood. I went "home" this summer to discover my town had changed, as is inevitable, but my memories of my grandmother an the book store remain firmly entrenched in my subconscious.
I finished my meeting at the brand new store in my new hometown and walked out with a smile on my face. The meeting had produced more signings for me to participate in and a few quiet moments before it began to drift back and pay homage to the grandmother who first introduced me to the love of book stores. It is not lost on me, the irony of this store being run by teachers. It's almost as if my grandma were guiding me home.