A Place to Hang the Moon

by Kate Albus

The librarian’s smile heaved under the weight of its own effort. “Enjoy your books, William, Edmund, Anna.” The children liked that the woman had already committed their names to memory. A librarian seemed a good sort of friend to have.

The librarian took this all in, standing by the fire and observing the children for a while, letting the silence be. Somehow, it didn’t feel awkward, the way silences often do. Perhaps librarians are more used to quiet than most.

“Good night, then,” the librarian whispered. As she headed for the door, all three children had the same wish. All three children were surprised that it was William who voiced it. “Would you read it to us?” Mrs. Müller smiled a sort of smile they hadn’t seen before. A smile that showed something like joy. Something like sorrow. Something like gratitude. “I’d be glad to.” The children stretched their toes to the hot-water bottles. Mrs. Müller took the book and arranged herself on the bench at the foot of the bed. She opened to the first page, turned it sidewise the way proper readers do when there are pictures involved, and began.

Anna interrupted her brother, not with words, but by lurching forward and wrapping her arms about the librarian as tightly as she knew how. A sob escaped Mrs. Müller’s throat as she returned Anna’s embrace with fierce desperation. The boys said nothing, only looked at their feet as their sister offered comfort from all of them. Anna might not have known what to say, but she knew what to do. Which is often the more important thing, as it turns out.

Beautiful writing.