Walking home today, I saw that one of the neighborhood Little Libraries lay in pieces, apparently from a July 4th cherry bomb.
This was the first Little Library that I ever encountered–the little building a wonderful reproduction of the house behind it.
I told the owner (and library host) how sorry I was. She said, “It will be rebuilt.”
That’s what I mean by a good attitude.
She also mentioned that when she spoke with other people about it, they said they’d done similar things in their youth–putting firecrackers in mailboxes. (I was not one of those people–always way too much of a chickenshit.)
Looking at the photo now, I see above the sign’s question the title Presumed Innocent.
For a poem, David Whyte’s The House of Belonging.