Ron looked out the car window. He was glad to go home again.
They passed the mall. They passed the gas station. There was the bread store and the library.
Ron liked the library. He used to go there for story time. That was before he could read.
That was the day he liked best each week. Mom would take him in. He would sit on the floor. He got to know the names of other boys and girls.
Mrs. French would sit on a chair. She would hold the book open. She would read. They saw the pictures. Ron liked hearing the stories. He could see it happen in his mind.
"Mom," said Ron, as they drove past. "Do you remember story day?"
"Do you mean at the library?" asked Mom.
Ron nodded.
"Yes, I do," said Mom.
"Do you remember what you told me?" he asked.