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Poem

Anyone who’s ever worked in a bookstore knows we would be kidding ourselves
if we thought the only stories in the store were housed in the books upon our shelves.

Here’s a little secret bookstore workers throughout the ages have known…
everyone who walks through our doors has a story of their own:

A woman put her purchases on the counter then looked up and smiled at me…
I could not guess her age but her daughter, who was still browsing, I surmise was 23.

Mom was purchasing The Little Prince…not only the book, 
but a Little Prince pouch and tote bag to carry them in…
and without prompting she proceeded to tell me where her story begins.

She searched her memory opening her mind to this precise chapter and page
Saying. “My mother gave me a copy of The Little Prince 
when I was around my daughter’s age.

“Have the person you want to spend your life with read this book.” She said to me…
“If that person loves it then you’ll know the two of you were meant to be.”

“And did it work?” I asked. She smiled wiping away a few happy tears
“It did!.” She said with a smile. “and we’ve been married for over 40 years.”

“And years into our marriage,” she whispered. 
“My husband gave me a copy of The Little Prince…all in French…
it is old and we’re sure quite rare.:
“Neither of us can read French.” She laughed, “and neither of us care.”

“These are for you.” Mom said handing the tote bag to her daughter.
And as they headed out of the store…about to disappear…
“They come with a great story.” She said, “one it’s time I think you hear.”

Yes, anyone who’s ever worked in a bookstore knows…
it’s the way bookstores are designed…
to house the stories people take away with them…
as well as the ones they leave behind.

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