Thanks, Mom

I have a lot of book memories from early childhood on, but I've often wondered why I have so few library memories from grade school. I suspect I have buried them like most of my grade school memories, which was a fairly awful time for me.
My earliest school library memory (Belinder school in Prairie Village) was when the librarian read "Sam, Bangs, and Moonshine" to us, pointing out to the class that the name BANGS was the same as MY LAST NAME, which was intensely embarrassing to me. I suppose that was in Kindergarten.
A later memory was when I tried to check out a book that I had read before from the public library (Corinth) and the school librarian wouldn't let me because it was about a family who went on sabbatical to France and it had FRENCH PHRASES IN IT which would be too hard to understand. This led to a visit from my mom, who was.... not pissed, because that wasn't my mom, but defensive of my reading ability. I was 8. She had found that book for me because that year we went on sabbatical to Holland, and she thought it would be a good introduction for me to the idea of kids going abroad for a year. It was an excellent book by Carol Ryrie Brink. The first one was Family Grandstand, the second was Family Sabbatical. She also wrote The Pink Motel.They remained some of my favorites for many years and I made sure I had old library copies for all my kids to read as well, because you'll never find them in the library any more.
What's really pathetic is that school librarians are still doing exactly that: trying to censor what the kid checks out because they don't think it's "on their level". I suppose part of that is because the parents aren't as involved in what the kid is reading.
I also remember one individual book which had a red library binding, full of jokes, riddles, and rhymes. I checked it out over and over. I think I would recognize it instantly if I could ever find another copy, but I don't remember the author or title.
But I don't remember the librarians at all, not then, or in any other school. I have no memories of the junior high or senior high school libraries.
What I remember from Corinth is the picture book section, and the stage where I was ready to move beyond the picture books (my mom helped me find more advanced books). I remember writing long lists of summer reading titles and filling out endless stacks of cards when I was ready to check out. I'm sure I never went to any story times. My mom was quite crippled and we only had one car, so we all went to the library together every couple of weeks.
My reading life was pretty much totally removed from my school life. My parents let me check out whatever I wanted. When I started reading the Sergeanne Golon books in junior high, they steered me towards better quality historical fiction, like Elizabeth Goudge. Most of her J books are now out of the system All her best adult books are out of the system now.
I attribute all my love for reading to my parents.
Also, we didn't have TV until I was ten, although then we wouldn't have made the connection.

Another early memory is when my parents told me about the death of CS Lewis (one or two days after Kennedy). That event was more disturbing to me than they realized, because I was confronted with the idea that Narnia was maybe not a real place after all, and that Aslan (who was a good lion, and would not break my doll dishes when he played with me) might not be real, either. They had read several of the Narnia books to me before I was able to read.
When we were in Europe in '65 we found Puffin books from England, and in those days they were amazingly cheap and great quality children's literature. I remember my dad reading to me from Professor Branestawm and Paddington Bear, and then he would show me the pages he read. I would then show him where all the British spellings and punctuations were that were different from the American books. When we went back in '68 I found E.Nesbit, Noel Streatfeild, and many other classics. I still have all my old Puffin paperbacks. My dad had an extensive library of his own and by the time I was out of grade school I had a bookcase filled myself.
I wanted to write something as a tribute to my mom, since this is her birthday and I'm missing her a lot this week. My birthday was two days ago and we used to always celebrate together. I'm glad Degolar asked his question and I got the angle I wanted to take to think and write about my mom.
My dad told me that when she was recovering in the hospital from one of her major hip surgeries she read all of Shakespeare's plays to help distract her from the pain. I still have a few of those volumes, which I found in their basement.
Maybe I'll fill in more of this later.
Thanks, Mom.