A Quiet Devotion
On libraries, storytelling, and the women who tended to them

Storytelling is as old as time, embedded in our DNA. Author Lisa Cron, in her book Wired for Story, argues that the science is there — that telling stories goes beyond pleasure. It is a matter of survival, of passing on practical information and knowledge. Stories also tell us what we want to hold on to.
In 2010, researchers at Princeton University discovered a phenomenon called neural coupling — where stories alter brain chemistry and enhance our sense of empathy.
Books were invented to carry forward information, knowledge and stories, and those privileged to amass a collection have always felt the desire to share them with others. Although Benjamin Franklin is famously known as one of the founding fathers of the US and as an inventor, he was also the first to introduce the concept of the public library. The seed of his idea came from pooling together books from merchants who belonged to the Junto, a philosophical group Franklin was part of — and from that, The Library Company of Philadelphia was born in 1731.
In researching for this essay, I was surprised to learn that the first major public library supported by taxes and opened to the public was the Boston Public Library, in 1854. What a coincidence then that it was there where Ate Marica was the first in our family to sign up for a library card when we arrived in Boston as immigrants from the Philippines.
Part of celebrating what would have been Ate Marica’s 58th birthday, we traveled from New York to Boston this past weekend. We walked along Boylston Street and stopped in front of the Boston Public Library. It was a stone’s throw from the building where she worked. I like to think she visited often, perhaps during lunch breaks or after her shift ended. For her, the access to knowledge, information and stories was what she believed in. That’s why she had a quiet devotion to them.
In the public library’s early history, women were the unsung heroes. By the 1930s, 75 percent of public libraries in the country owed their origins to women’s clubs. Nationwide, women’s organizations fundraised, donated books, lobbied local governments, and simply started libraries themselves when no one else would.
There was also The Pack Horse Library Project (1935–1943), part of the Works Progress Administration under President Franklin Roosevelt. Mostly women, they rode 100 to 120 miles a week through all types of weather — sun, snow, rain and storms — on their own horses or mules, delivering novels, newspapers, magazines, homemade scrapbooks of recipes and quilting patterns, and hand-lettered Bible verses for families who couldn’t read. In the most remote locations, they left their horses and continued on foot. They slept outdoors or sheltered in barns, going from farm to farm.
Across the South, however, Black readers were excluded from public libraries — the very institutions built on the principle that knowledge belongs to everyone. Not to be deterred, in 1905 the first free public library staffed and operated entirely by and for African American readers opened in Louisville, Kentucky. Atlanta, Georgia opened its first branch for African Americans in 1921.
Public libraries have grown and expanded in the 21st century, providing vital services that most of us tend to overlook — and worth mentioning now, as this current administration has supported banning books and cutting the funding that allows them to continue to operate.
For children and families: story time and read-alouds, summer reading programs, after-school homework help, children’s author visits and book clubs, literacy programs for early readers.
For adults: book clubs, author talks and lectures, language and ESL classes, citizenship and naturalization prep, GED and adult literacy programs, job search assistance and resume workshops, financial literacy workshops, and free tax preparation assistance during tax season.
For everyone: free internet and computer access, printing and scanning, notary services, museum and theater passes, seed libraries, tool lending — here in the Bay Area, the Berkeley Tool Lending Library has been lending gardening and home repair tools to residents since 1979. Some branches offer 3D printing, free meeting rooms for community groups, social services referrals, and increasingly, social workers on staff to help patrons navigating housing, mental health, or food insecurity.
Digital access: e-books and audiobooks through apps like Libby, streaming films and music, genealogy research tools, language learning apps like Rosetta Stone — all free with a library card.
Public libraries are, in many communities, the last truly free public space — no purchase required, no membership, no proof of anything. Just a card confirming you live in the community or nearby county.
This week, April 19–25, is National Library Week — the American Library Association’s annual celebration of libraries and the people who make them possible.
The thread that connects us — from Benjamin Franklin, to the unsung women who took action and built their own clubs and libraries, to the pack horse librarians riding through Kentucky storms, to the library card Ate Marica signed for on Boylston Street — is the belief that knowledge, story, and connection belong to everyone.
That thread is fragile right now.
It needs tending.
Support your local library.
Donate if you can.
National
American Library Association advocacy hub: ala.org/showup
EveryLibrary: everylibrary.org
Unite Against Book Bans: uniteagainstbookbans.org
Find Your Local Library
Library finder tool: libraryfinder.imls.gov
The Libraries Closest to Ate Marica’s Heart
New York Public Library
Donate: nypl.org/donate
Become a member: nypl.org/support
Boston Public Library
Become a member: https://www.bpl.org/get-a-library-card/
And if you feel moved to reach out to someone you love or care about, to say something that deserves to outlast a text message — there’s always the Marica Notecard for that.
Marica Notecards

Inspired by my sister Marica's love of literature and libraries, this collection layers vintage imagery with library ephemera—date stamps, catalog cards, and handwritten script. Through circulation and return, libraries connect us across time and generations, making timeless stories accessible to all.
Share words of encouragement or gratitude, or offer a simple reminder that someone is loved.
With every note sent, her presence lives on.
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Beautiful, Stella! Thanks for sharing this. I am excited to receive my cards.
Stella, I love your writing and collages!