By Dana M.
It was 11:00 pm. Wednesday of finals week and the last quarter of my senior year. My paper was due the next morning and I didn’t have a word on the page. I stumbled into the library in my pajamas carrying the heavy certainty that this moment of failure eradicated all my past successes.
And that was when I saw it: two folding tables, practically bowing in the middle under the weight of huge platters ladened with variety after variety of homemade cookies.
I might have cried.
I later learned that a single librarian was responsible for every cookie on that table.
God bless librarians.