The girl who loved books, Part I

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved books very much. One day while she was wandering through her magical castle she encountered a grand library and was overwhelmed with joy. This was no ordinary library, for it had four floors full of shelves that stretched to the tall ceiling. On the lowest level were enchanted sliding shelves that squeezed together at the command of a remote control. These shelves were packed with periodicals, journals, law books, and other documents of higher learning. The second floor was a maze of nonfiction and a vast array of religious literature. As she stared down the aisle containing books about saints of the past, the girl could barely glimpse the far away end of the row. She entered one aisle and curiously surveyed the titles. Much to her surprise, she could not read them, for they were in French, Spanish, Polish, and other unfamiliar languages of far away lands.
After finding her way out of the first floor menagerie, the girl who loved books traveled to the top of the wide spiral staircase at the center of the library, where she encountered an abundance of the most wonderful literary treats. Poetry, short stories, and novels whispered to her from the shelves. These books seemed to glow as they sat pridefully in their periodically-numbered places, just waiting to be found and opened. The girl walked through a tight aisle and marveled at the spines of the glorious specimens surrounding her. As one who knew a bit about books, the girl knew that much could be told about a book from its cover. Some old spines stood intact, the sign of a well made but rarely read book. Paper covers with glossy plastic protection showed the mark of a caring librarian, or literary physician. Frayed and tattered fabric covers indicated an old craft with valuable content. Often the inside pages of this kind were dog-eared for the ease of finding a favorite passage. Tired old paperbacks were held up between sturdy old novels with pressed leather pages. Occasionally a new book with uncracked spines protruded from a shelf, as though screaming to be opened and loved.
A strange thought occurred to the girl who loved books. This mysterious place must have been here for years... how long ago was the first book placed on this very shelf? She decided to find out. It didn't take the girl long to realize that the library was, indeed, much older than her 19-year-old self. In fact, the first book probably reached those shelves around the childhood of her great-grandmother. Several of the books had been printed many years ago, as indicated by the years printed on the first pages. The girl lifted one particularly wise looking book and gingerly opened the cover. She moved extra slowly as she did this, partially in awe and partially in fear that the brittle pages between her fingers would crumble to dust if she moved too harshly. The smell of ancient paper drifted to her nose, tainted with the acidic tinge of ink. It reminded her of her mother, who told stories of running presses and knew all there was to know about Benjamin Franklin. It was a good thing she was clutching the book in a hug-like manner, for if she had not been guarding the book well it would have fallen to the ground when she jumped in delight. 1850! The book was printed in 1850... just imagine, the era of hoop skirts and railroads...as well as slavery, corsets and plagues... Even such thoughts could not ruin the majesty of the book in the girl's hands. In an awe-struck daze, the girl who loved books tucked the treasure from 1850 into its proper place on the shelf and backed out of the aisle.
Class was calling and the girl had to go, but not before carefully selecting four treasures to take with her: Cuentos Espanoles (a tired paperback, 1960), The Boy's Froissart (she could never resist a good knight in shining armor, worn fabric cover, 1907), Beloved Prophet: The Love Letters of Kahlil Gibran and Mary Haskell and her private journal (a tended hardcover, 1972), and Lyra Celtica (a fabulous fabric cover with pressed letters and designs, 1932). Luckily this room of the castle had many entrances, so even if the room moved (as rooms were known to do in this castle), she could surely find a way in somehow or another. The girl who loved books practically floated down the spiral staircase, still in awe of her wondrous discovery. She could not wait to return soon...