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A listener note. We strive to make most episodes of Imagine Life kid-friendly, because we know many of our listeners enjoy them with their kids.

However, this is not one of those episodes. If the little ones are in the back, we recommend The Handler, instead.

Imagine you're 10 years old, and for a few moments of your day, you are gloriously unattended.

And your face is planted firmly, where stories live in breathe, inside a book.

During the whole of adult dark and soundless day in the autumn of the year.

Your favorite afternoons are spent here in Mrs. Flowers' home library.

Laced curtains on the windows ruffle in the lazy breeze, and faded photos of blurry relatives stare back at you from the walls.

At first, Mama would accompany you. Now she drops you off, leaving you and Mrs. Flowers alone.

You can hear them whispering in the hall.

How is she today? Better, she's not moping quite as much.

Bank heavens for small miracles.

They don't think you hear them, but you do. You hear everything.

Mama sounds worried. You wish everyone would stop worrying.

You're feeling better. Not great, and not like you were before, but better.

You shut the book quickly, out too hard.

Charles Dickens must have heard it clear from the grave.

You silently apologize. Books should be treated with respect.

They're filled with words, and words are powerful.

Along the tall, built-in bookshelf, you spy a new book with a soft green cover that reminds you of blades of spring grass.

You pull it out and examine the front, running your fingers over the smooth orange, honeysuckle flowers on the cover.

Poems of cabin and field by Paul Lawrence Dunbar.

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