Dedicated to Ruth Gottstein, in Honor of the 100th 

Anniversary of The Amador Country Library

when she was just a little girl, 

Ruth walked most every day 

she could, to the Library in 

San Francisco with bags to 

take home books - with faith 

in companionship in books - 

hope in learning every single

possible everything that she

wanted to learn therein - love 

of printed word and apt 

illustration, at times, perhaps... 

ninety-plus years later, she 

still goes library-ing with her

son, because she must:

the rows of books say all 

she may want to hear. 

the smells of books tell her

stories of homing as if to 

a safe nest. the touch of  

books is rustling familiar. 

her eyes are sharp as ever. 

reading is friendships that 

are kept and acquaintances 

who are fleeting. peopled, 

none the less, in knowing 

that home is where the books 

are kept. the world is where 

they came from, and, to where

they travel with you....

we who love the old arts of 

reading the books, are kin. 

we are the traveling people, in

our gypsy wagons and bags 

of books, creaking wayward 

along elder and familiar and 

new and untried road ways: 

somehow, we know the way... 

now, the library doors are open. 

then, the library doors shut: 

they keep our dreams and 

thoughts All In. 

Never, Ever: Out....