Girl Through the Glass

My office has a floor to ceiling window that looks out onto the Information Commons overtop of the Reference Stacks. People can tell if I am in my office by whether my light is shining through the window. When I first moved in, before there were even books on the Reference shelves, I would stand at my window and gaze out into the Library proper, seeing all that was going on in the world outside my door. I love my window.

I still glance out my window from time to time. Not as much as I used to. I guess I have adjusted to its presence. It seems a normal part of what I experience. I am sure I would be lost without it, but it holds no particular interest to my daily activities.

Not so for my young visitor. She is two going on twenty, filled with life and love and curiosity and shyness all rolled into a bundle of vivacious energy. Her Mom brought her into my office to visit (I begged shamelessly to see her despite the young lady's lack of interest in humoring an old lady). At first she shyly peeked through my doorway, afraid to come in or get too close to someone she barely knew. I had nothing of a toy or food nature to offer her and made myself a mental note to bring in young lady things that might interest her. After all, an enforced visit must hold some small token of fun.

She wandered down the short hall towards the Reference shelves, sneaking around the corner while I chatted with her Mom. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her looking in my window with interest. She stuck her nose squarely against the glass, her fingers pressed palm open next to her face, her eyes rolled upwards as she peered at us through the window.

I wandered over (so as not to scare her), reached out, and touched her hand with mine, the glass between preventing any real contact. She squealed with delight. So began our game. She moved her hand, I moved mine. We fingerprinted patterns all over the window from one side to the other, from the very bottom to as high up as she could reach on her tippy toes. When she pressed her face against the glass again, I beeped her nose with my finger and she laughed as if I had told the joke of the century.

We made spider crawls, worm wiggles, sand swirlies, polka dots and every imaginable pattern we could create as our hands worked together yet apart. Sometimes she led, sometimes I did. We bent down low, stood up tall, reached our arms wide apart. What an odd dance it must have seemed to anyone not playing our game. Her eyes glanced at mine everytime she moved, waiting to see if I would keep up with her, and when I did what she wanted she smiled. When I did the unexpected - going in the opposite direction or switching to my other hand - she laughed a deep loud belly laugh.

What hilarious fun! I have not played at little girl games for a long time. I can't wait until she is old enough to jump rope. What fun we might have, especially if she gets bold enough to step around the glass and actually come into my office! I am so happy she showed me the magic of my window and reminded me to take time to play once in awhile.