After the post office, the local library was the place I visited after I moved to Mirror, Alberta in September 2008. I'd been here four days, and was tired of unpacking, arranging furniture and stumbling over boxes. It was a Tuesday, and the library was open for the morning. It took me some time to pull open the perpetually-sticky door, but when I did, I was greeted with the site of shelves and shelves of books crammed into a space not much larger than my living room. To my right was a desk. Behind it, a small woman with ash-blond, cropped hair was bending over its surface, working on Thanksgiving/autumn decorations. She looked up. "Hi!" she greeted me, in a voice clear, firm and surprisingly deep for one of such small stature. She grinned broadly at me; I introduced myself. In short order I was looking around, and we were exchanging 'get-to-know-yous' over the tops of bookshelves as I browsed. When I'd been there about ten minutes, she asked -- without the least hesitation -- "Would you like to be on the Library Board?"
I nearly dropped the book I was looking at! Popping my head out from behind the shelves, I replied, "Can I unpack first?" We both laughed -- the first of many laughs we had together on my regular visits over the next year.