PaperWork: This librarian knows how to make her books more special

I am not sure Mrs. Ellis is a real person. A real librarian.

It doesn’t matter. Her story is worth sharing. (Apologies to those who already have read her story, as it is growing on the Facebook vine.)

My friend Sue posted it recently, noting that she picked it up from “Astonishing,” a Facebook page that promotes similar stories about interesting or inspiring people.

Anyway, I like the message this story brings:

“Every Tuesday at 3 p.m., Mrs. Ellis, the silver-haired librarian, would slide a handwritten note into a random book before reshelving it. No one knew it was her. ‘You’re braver than you think,’ she’d scribble on lemon-yellow paper, tucking it into a thriller. ‘The world needs your laugh,’ nestled inside a joke book. She’d done this for 12 years – since her husband passed.

“One rainy afternoon, 14-year-old Marco flipped open a dusty atlas and found a note: ‘Someone out there is proud of you.’ He stuffed it into his pocket. That week, his mom had been laid off, and he’d been hiding lunch money in her purse. The note stayed with him, creased but unthrown, like a secret friend.

“He started visiting the library daily, hunting for more notes. Mrs. Ellis watched him quietly, noticing how he’d linger in the cookbook aisle (his mom’s dream was to open a bakery). One day, she ‘accidentally’ dropped a note near his feet: ‘Follow the recipe, kid. You’ve got the ingredients.’

“Marco baked her a lumpy banana loaf the next week. ‘For the note person,’ he mumbled, pushing the tin across the desk. Mrs. Ellis smiled. ‘They’ll love it.’

“Years passed. Marco’s mom opened her bakery, ‘Yellow Note Cakes,’ with recipes pinned beside customer orders. Graduation day, Marco left a note in the atlas: ‘Thank you for seeing me.’

“Mrs. Ellis retired last month. At her farewell party, the library displayed a clothesline strung with hundreds of yellow notes – found in textbooks, romance novels, even a gardening guide. A nurse wrote: ‘This got me through night shifts.’ A single dad: ‘I kept your ‘You’re enough’ note in my wedding ring box.’

“Now, the library’s new intern, Marco’s little sister, starts her mornings the same way: watering plants, shelving books and hiding scraps of sunshine.

“Mrs. Ellis still comes in on Tuesdays. ‘Found one!’ she’ll say, waving a fresh note someone left for her.

“Funny, isn’t it? How words meant to heal others somehow heal us too.”

OK. Can we all agree that it is a touching story? Hundreds commented on the posting. “Heart-warming” pops up frequently. Some added their own story.

“I love this so much,” one commenter wrote. “The other day, I was reading a library book when I turned a page and found a hand-cut paper heart.”

Another wrote: “Everyone who loves books gets this!!! Words can help or hurt – your choice!!!”

Mrs. Ellis clearly understands the impact of words. Words everyone needs to hear now and then. She knows her world is surrounded by words that matter, all carefully bound and stacked on shelves – the perfect place to leave a personal message.

We discover ourselves in books, which is even more special when you also realize other people have made the same journey before you.

When I pull an old or used book off a shelf, I shuffle the pages with my thumb to see what might jump out. I connect to the names and notes written inside and dates. Knowing a book was a Christmas gift years ago adds history to the book – that will now be part of my history.

We get caught up in the story and the characters, but I also remind myself that a human being, a real character, created the story with people we become attached to and relate to and remember.

So, kudos to the person who wrote this story about Mrs. Ellis and Marco. I’d like to know much more about both of them – and the author.

But this story was mostly about the message … duly noted at the end.

“Funny, isn’t it? How words meant to heal others somehow heal us too.”

• Lonny Cain, retired managing editor of The Times in Ottawa, also was a reporter for The Herald-News in Joliet in the 1970s. His PaperWork email is lonnyjcain@gmail.com. Or mail The Times, 110 W. Jefferson St., Ottawa, IL 61350.