When an Old Man Dies

“When an old man dies, a whole library burns.”

-Amadon Hamp’ate, (Mali)

The library had been around as long as I can recall. Like an old soul, it housed the wisdom of the decades and enlightened all who visited. As a little boy I would listen for hours to all the wondrous tales – Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel and Gretel, Robin Hood, The Cat in the Hat.

One story was better than the next, but my favorites were those that were made up. I would scream or howl with laughter as these stories unfolded.

As I grew older, the topics shifted toward sports. I could always find the information needed at the library. Who was the greatest player: Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio or Mickey Mantle? What were the latest statistics for the major leagues? No matter what the question,

there was always an answer to be found.

Somewhere along the way, I lost interest in going regularly to the library. When I had questions, it was easier and more fun to ask friends or search the internet. Oh, I’d visit occasionally but it was no longer my favorite place for answers.

As an adult with children of my own, I realized the important role the library played in my life. I started visiting more frequently, so my children could experience what I had as a child. Witnessing their joy as the stories were told was truly delightful. It was the same place I remembered though time had taken its toll. The edges were slightly frayed, it wasn’t quite so tall and the light seemed a bit dimmer. But the warmth and embrace I felt when I was young were still the same.

Then one day I noticed the embers in the library were burning. The foundation was crumbling and in a short amount of time it was gone. My grandfather passed away. He was an old man of great wisdom which he shared free of charge – he was my library.