The Quiet Library

The library in Thornby, a small village in Yorkshire, was built in 1911. It is a stone building with a green door, and for the last twenty-six years it has been run by the same librarian, June Fletcher. It isn't a busy place. On most afternoons only a few people come in: some retired farmers who read the newspapers, a mother with a baby, a group of children after school.

One Monday in March, a letter was delivered to June's desk. It had been sent by the county council. Because of budget cuts, it said, the library was going to be closed at the end of June. The building would be sold, and the books would be moved to a bigger library in town, twelve miles away. June read the letter twice and then sat in silence for a long time.

The next day she told Hugo, a sixteen-year-old who volunteered at the library on Saturdays. Hugo had been coming there since he was five. "They can't do that," he said. "Where will the kids do their homework? Where will Mr. Dawson read his paper?" June shook her head. "I'm afraid the decision has already been made." Hugo wasn't so sure. "Decisions can be changed," he said.

That weekend, Hugo started a campaign. A website was set up, and a petition was written and shared online. Posters were printed and put up in the post office, the pub and the church. June, who hated speaking in public, agreed to talk to the local radio station. Her voice was shaking, but people listened.

Then the village joined in. A bake sale was organized by the school, and over four hundred pounds was raised in one afternoon. The farmers wrote letters to the newspaper. The children made a video in which every book was read aloud by a different person, from a three-year-old to Mr. Dawson, who was ninety-two. The video was watched more than fifty thousand times.

In May, the petition was taken to the council offices. It had been signed by over three thousand people, which was more than the population of the whole village. June and Hugo were invited to speak at a council meeting. Hugo talked about homework and computers. June talked about the farmer who learned to read at sixty-eight, in the corner by the window.

Two weeks later, another letter arrived. The library would not be closed. Instead, it would be run by volunteers from the village, with a small amount of money from the council. June read the letter aloud, and for the first time in twenty-six years, the quiet library was very, very noisy.