Real Life Stories
Even though we've lived in Orlando for over 40 years, just a few miles from the Magic Kingdom, the most magical place I know is the Orange County Public Library. It looks a bit like a castle on the outside and there is a virtual king's ransom of treasures inside that have profoundly influenced our entire family. Like most Florida residents, we've been to Disney World many times to soak up their special brand of make-believe and magic; but even when our three sons were youngsters, they always liked the library better and still do to this day.
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When I was growing up, my family moved often. At least twice a year we relocated to a new apartment in a different part of Brooklyn, NY. As a result of all of this moving, I did not have a chance to establish myself in a school to make friends. I was always the new kid on the block, and was the focus of every bully in every school I attended. Since I wasn’t living in the neighborhoods too long, I didn’t have a chance to make friends.
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On a hot, dusty day in the Puyallup valley of Washington State, a young Indian girl saw a strange yellow vehicle parked alongside a farm lane. The year was 1962, the big yellow vehicle was a bookmobile, and I was that young girl - a migrant farm worker who unknowingly started her journey out of those fields.
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I’m a retired clinical psychologist, blind from birth. When I was growing up in the 1950’s in Kalamazoo, MI, the librarian at the Michigan library for the blind was my hero. He sent me books in Braille and on records from the Library of Congress through the mail. When those big black boxes of Braille books arrived on the front porch, my anticipation was just about as great as it was before Christmas. I knew I would soon be losing myself in a book about somebody else’s world. One of my early Braille favorites was Brighty of the Grand Canyon. I can still re
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