French poet

A mother and three daughters came over to the Reference Desk; the mother wore sunglasses and a ear piece for a cellphone (I refer to them as implants). Modern orthodox: long skirts, flat shoes, no makeup. The oldest daughter, an 11th grade student, had an assignment of a French poet named Freneau. She knew nothing about the poet: not when he lived, simply that he was French.

After getting the call number of a book about Freneau, I showed her how to use the OPAC to search: by author, by subject, and by keyword. Her mother kept inserting comments, which I found less than useful, but I concentrated on the librarianship.

I then walked her to the stacks, showed her the 811 and 818 sections, telling her how, in some cases, looking at books to either side of the book she found might be useful (though not in this case). She left the library with two books about Freneau, and some knowledge about using a library. I was satisfied with a job well done, a patron educated (a young woman studying at the carrel near the 818s smiled in contentment at seeing me teach the young lady, and at her absorbing information).

Such encounters are the very essence of how satisfying it is to be a librarian.