Oh, the pleasure of commerce mixed with hobby. Here is a store that I would be pleasantly pleased if one were purchased for me - by December 25th, of course.
Booksellers are not making it these days unless they operate in cyberspace. The old book store in historic McKinney has the old tile floor, antique wood accents, and smells of wonderful old books. I talked to the owner who is an elderly man. His prediction is that his kind of bookstore will be extinct in 20 years due to commerce on the internet. No, I don’t want a cyberspace store.
No, my bookstore would be called “A Likely Story” and it would be one with the best of children’s literature, story times, and baskets of books and activities wrapped up in special designer paper for various purposes: home education bundles, Papa read-a-louds, puppets and board books, and holiday/birthday baskets. Our delivery service would include a basket for children in the hospital and we’d call it “Between Naps.” And yes there would be one for newborn babies called “Wynken, Blynken and Nod.” Poetry? Our Basket of Rhyme would have the best of the best illustrators. History? You’ve come to the right place. Historical books wrapped up in burlap sacks or bandanas or treasure chests.
And an alcove would be the Parent’s Corner, complete with adult books on parenting, reading, education, and encouragement.
And everyone who visited our store would get a bookmark designed just for our little shop.
This little store would have a sound system piped into its rooms … old music faintly heard … Baroque, American folk, holiday music, ethnic music from other lands or whatever. Karen would select and execute all music, including the design and making of the Music Baskets which have penny whistles tucked among Irish stories, or harmonicas with American folk literature and these are tagged at a very fair price. And we would secure a huge jar of lollipops at the check-out counter – you know, the ones where the candy hangs off of a white soft looped string that are hard to find, but we would find them. And there would be a stool for little ones at the checkout so they could see what was going on up at that countertop.
Our re-useable shopping bags would be made of Emily’s weaved cloth, made from Kathy’s spun alpaca fiber. Annie would design the display in the front window and Abigail would help her set it up monthly. Kimberly? In charge of the flannel covered bulletin board where we hang pictures the children bring to us. All the girls would cultivate the flower garden in the front yard so that we would have fresh flowers in those little dime store vases all over the place. And the old, uneven wooden floor would need a daily dust mopping too.
The Little House books would always be on display. Always. And read every year at Storytime One. We would never tire of it, nor our customers. Whenever Aunt Grace comes to town, we’d hand it over to her since she is the expert. Uncle Lee would come along with her so we’d have a special Boys Club meeting where he would tell stories about American baseball, radio announcers, and his experiences in the war. Any other family members in town would be nudged into doing something. Grandpa would start a 1000 piece puzzle on the porch and Grandma would be sent on shopping errands since she is a good shopper, that is when we don’t have her making one of her specialties in the kitchen. Grandpa would maintain the elevator he installed in the back of the store in order to keep us up with local building codes. We’d also have the local fire chief in for a day. And the butcher, baker, and candlestick maker.
Storytime Two would be the genius of Kathy and be rather eclectic and of course, creative. Just ask her.
Don’t forget the puzzles. Jigsaw, Rubik, metallic, and what-not. Matthew would keep those organized and remain available to solve the hand manipulated ones. Or I’d rather say he would teach the younger boys so they could take them home with some solving tips. In other moments, Matthew is in charge of the stock room and general yardwork.
All price tags, and I mean all, would be written by hand. On antique looking cardstock. They would have our logo which would be designed by Karen and the tags would have little strings attached to them.
To one side would be a bookshelf with lanterns and Lamplighter books.
The upstairs would need an office for Dad to do the accounting and a break room with comfy upholstered chairs. Rotating naps for employees would be allowed except inthe busy season. Farther up is the third floor attic, among the boughs of the oak tree. The attic would need some painting and new windows, but that is where the birthday parties are held. Up two narrow staircases and down a skinny hall to a fun time for the birthday child. The hall is lined with hats and hats and more hats for every type of character you can think of. Top hats, berets, peacock feathers on a straw brim, baseball caps, and bonnets. The attic would be huge and we’d paint it in the colors of Beatrix Potter – muted and antiqued on the walls. Lovely and light with the windows along the front and back walls. The chairs? Wooden ones of all sizes and shapes. The table is a grand old one imported from Narnia. And baskets, lots of them, filled with things to touch and experience. The floor is covered with carpets of tapestry. Don’t forget the piano in the far corner for sing alongs.
The bookstore would be in Little Town, USA, population 8,000. Picket fences would abound and since we would be just off Main Street with a little sign pointing customers our way, we’d have to secure a pale yellow Painted Lady with a white picket fence. The gate on the fence would swing open easily and a little sign stuck in the ground would read “Welcome.” The sidewalk would lead to the front porch unless one followed the step stones to the back yard. The front door would post a wooden plaque …”Come in and read with me a likely story.” A lazy ragdoll kitty purrs in the deep front window display to greet our customers. The Kitty’s Name? Mrs. Tabitha Twitchet, of course! And little glasses of lemonade on the front porch in the summer along with white rocking chairs of all sizes from Cracker Barrel. A wooden swing hangs from the oak tree in the yard where mothers tell stories to their children. Our sheltie comes along most days and guards the porch from The Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. You already know the sheltie’s name. Lad from Terhune’s books.
We’d know every child’s name in Little Town. We’d know every child’s middle name in Little Town. As to the county, on County Fair Day we would set up a little booth with carpet on the ground and big squishy pillows and have story time. Face painting on the side. We’d only bring pre-made baskets that day wrapped up in that designer paper to sell. We’d pass out invitations for all in the county to visit “A Likely Story” in the little yellow house.
Best of all, every Saturday afternoon is the icing on the cake. Children park their bikes at the picket fence and eagerly run up the stairs into the book house. In the storytime room the best Book of all is read to the children and flannelgraphs appear on the easel board as David and Goliath, Daniel in the Lion’s Den, and Moses in the Bulrushes come to life. And we’d make sure that every child had his own Bible at home in the old English language in large print.
Our store would give back to the community. In the evenings, mothers would gather in the attic with cups of warm tea and Danish butter cookies to discuss ideas on educating children. At no charge. Dads would meet once a month on Saturday morning to brainstorm ways to improve their families and their churches and the community. At no charge. School teachers would be given a yearly luncheon there. At no charge. And grandmothers would have Tuesday afternoon tea up there and talk about days gone by. At no charge. Local artists and musicians would be featured from time to time to enable their giftings to expand in our community. At no charge. A portion of our profits would go to new writers … those we hope will write excellent fiction with a biblical worldview, or non-fiction that gives glory to God. And another portion would go to missionaries in foreign lands who are placing the Great Book in the hands of those who don’t know Jesus.
“A Likely Story” would never become a franchise or a chain. If, however, dear friends of ours wanted to open up one in their town, then they could call theirs “Now, That’s a Likely Story.”
On the way out of the store, linger on the porch for a moment and then walk down the safe, but creaky steps. Stroll past the elderly oak tree with the wooden swing. At the picket fence, lift your hand to open the gate but glance down first. There the sign hangs. It says “A Happy Ending.” We are open Tuesday through Saturday, 10 to 5. Please come back.
(Now, my dear children, have you talked your father into this yet? Is this a likely story or not?)
