| Not until I reached adulthood did I realize the exceptional early education I received at Redbank Elementary. I recall once in the third grade when I was absent for an extended period with dreaded scarlet fever. I snuggled in with a large book that I had borrowed from the Redbank Elementary School Library. When finally I returned to class, what could be more horrific than a dreaded note to visit Principal Kilgore's office? I was terrified as I was ushered into his office and seated in a chair where my feet did not even touch the ground. "This is about your long overdue book from our library," said Principal Kilgore as he looked at me sternly through his black framed glasses. I was certain I was about to faint! "You may keep the book, and you are excused now." I suppose he thought I contaminated it with scarlet fever germs, but to me it was a prize. I have prized books and reading my whole life. Redbank Elementary birthed my love of literature, which led to my life long passion as a journalist.
Today I belong to the Tiara Sisterhood Literary Society. We read one book a month (usually of the NY Times Best Seller venue) and then meet in each other's home to discuss what we have learned. Principal Kilgore would be proud that we also have a principal of a South Florida middle school in our society. Beyond these borders, we do philanthropic endeavors. We held a bake sale to raise funds to buy a rocking chair for our local library so that mothers can rock their toddlers and read to them. We are collectively working on a letter to Michelle Obama to share our thoughts about improving the current public school educational system. Recently we adopted a group of 11-year-old girls, the Little Sister's of the Tiara Literary Society, to mentor and instill a life long love of reading. Once a week I read to 3 & 5 year olds at a day care where many underprivileged children attend. Most come from divorced homes and the only time a book is read to them is when I visit. I come with much ceremony as the Princess of Reading. I come from the Kingdom of Books and my portal is the Public Library. "Each book," I tell the children, "is like a present because we do not know what is inside until we open it!" It is immeasurable joy to see the excitement these little ones have for reading. The same excitement I learned from Redbank Elementary. In October, 2009, when vacationing in my beloved Maine, I jotted down these thoughts and sent them to the Portland Press Herald....................... ___________________ Headline: Portland has great beauty, but also sadness Publication: MAINE SUNDAY TELEGRAM RunDate: Sunday, October 25, 2009 My life is like a book, and it is a good read. Portland born and bred, I have traveled the world and lived away for over 20 years, but as any native Mainer will tell you, ''You are either from here or away.'' No matter where my wandering footsteps meander, I am always a Mainer in my heart. In Italy I floated among masterpieces at the Uffizi Museum in Florence while recalling the ''The Dead Pearl Diver'' reposing in stone cold marble at the Portland Museum of Art. It took my breath away as a child; it still does. In Ireland I walked the ancient Cliffs of Moher in County Clair and thought of the magnificence of the Eastern and Western Promenades of Portland. Recently, while leaf-peeping in New England, my husband and I landed in Boston with no agenda. We saw Fenway Park aglow from the 50th floor of the Prudential Building in Boston. We dined at Pickering Wharf in Salem. We visually inhaled spectacular foliage while riding the SS Mount Washington on Lake Winnipesaukee. We strolled along historic Strawbery Banke in Portsmouth. We trod the breathtaking path along the rocky coast of Marginal Way in Ogunquit all the way to Perkins Cove, just to eat a lobster roll. Yet, nothing on Earth compares to what stirred inside me when I glimpsed the panoramic views of Portland Harbor from the 6th floor of our hotel in downtown Portland. Like a Jew who makes aliyah to Israel, I was home. I could have bent down and kissed the ground. When my husband arrived with the luggage I was jumping up and down with glee! Ahhhh. Long Wharf, Monument Square, Munjoy Hill, The Old Port, Longfellow Square, State Street Church, Congress Street, Exchange Street, Deering Oaks, I love it all! I walk these brick-paved sidewalks and my heart beats with the heartbeat of this wondrous city, but my pockets are empty. They are empty for a reason. My husband knows if I go out with money in my pocket and a stranger asks, I will surely give all I have freely. Once, when shopping in Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco, a homeless young man asked for a handout. I said I was sadly devoid of cash, but I did have a credit card. ''Lady, '' he said, ''I don't take credit cards, I'm homeless!'' I was in Berlin once as a guest at a ceremony to honor the memory of Claus von Stauffenberg, the nobleman who attempted to assassinate Adolf Hitler, when I made an unexpected observation. Regardless of where I walked in that astonishing city, I saw no homeless population. When remarking upon this to my host, he said, ''That would be a poor reflection on our city.'' He explained how Berliners provide lovely dwellings in the country for the homeless, where they are given jobs that meet their capabilities and provide what they lack most; dignity. I was thinking of this while taking a brisk walk in the city I so love, when at the corner of Spring and State streets I encountered a young girl holding a sign I had never seen before, ''Homeless and Prenatal.'' If only Portland, for all its beauty, were more like Berlin in its provision for people like her. Special to the Telegram ABOUT THE AUTHOR Ann Page, a Portland native, now resides in Fort Lauderdale, Fla and works as a journalist. |
| Thanks to Ann (Havener) Page for these contributions |
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