I have always been a collector of books. My whole family is full of readers – my grandparents, aunts, uncles, parents, cousins, and siblings. We all read. And read a lot. My grandparents and my parents each had rooms in their homes dubbed  “the library” that were packed to the gills with books of all stripes – readable paperbacks to folios and everything in-between. My bedroom dresser had a hutch on top with bookshelves that we easily filled with our acquisitions from the quarterly Scholastic book flier, garage sales, and birthdays. One of my favorite things to play as a child was “library,”  wherein I laboriously made library cards for all of the books on the children’s shelves in our home library, and I would then check out the books for my dolls and teddy bear. I have wanted to be a librarian for as long as I can remember. 

I was in high school in the late 1990s. When I looked out at the world and considered what I wanted to do with my life, “librarian” wasn’t on the list. Not because I wasn’t interested in it, but because well-meaning adults convinced me that being a librarian wasn’t what it was like in the storybooks. It was about memorizing the Dewey Decimal System and learning how to do dry research for patrons. I am not sure they were wrong. And, I am not sure that I wouldn’t have loved that anyway since I do love to solve puzzles and chase ideas. But, I am sure that none of us had any idea that private lending libraries would experience the renewal that they are and that scores of book lovers across the country would be turning their homes, garages, and church basements into old-fashioned libraries full of living books. 

Not knowing what I wanted to do but knowing that I loved books, I headed to Hillsdale College. Chosen in part because of its Heritage Room library, and mostly because of its Great Books program, I applied for, and was awarded, two terms in the University of Oxford exchange. While there I cherished my Bodleian Library card and used it often. In between terms at Oxford, I back-packed through Europe taking two classics with me: Little Men by Louisa May Alcott and The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas. It was Little Men which I read and re-read. In the mountains of Switzerland and the gardens of England, it was Little Men that was taking up permanent residence in my heart and which would inspire so many choices to come. 

A few years after graduating from Hillsdale, I became a teacher and Campus Minister at a small Catholic high school. It was there that I began reading with young people and began to see how few of them were ever exposed to any of the really good books. When my husband and I started our family, we chose to homeschool our children in part because we wanted there to be enough time to read, read, and read, with our children. Along the way, I have hosted dozens of book clubs for young people. 

In 2015, Diane Pendergraft and I, along with some other friends, started a Facebook group dedicated to the joyful discussion of the good and great books: Potato Peel Pie Book Community (it was here that we met Kathleen Seeger of Living Education Library). One year later, we understood the need for a static place to defend the good and true books as well as a place to write about homeschooling in general. We created Plumfield and Paideia. Last year, we felt God pushing into our hearts the calling to start the Plumfield Moms podcast. Along the way, Sarah Kim and Tanya Arnold of Biblioguides introduced us to a bunch of other “library ladies,” and we began a series of podcast episodes with Kathleen, Sherry Early, Sandy Hall, Mary Schubert, Kristi Stansfield, and Jeannette Tulis. 

Last fall, I began to see bees everywhere I went. On planners, on decor, on mail, on signs, everywhere. As I was preparing for Advent, I was contemplating what theme the new year might have for me. When in prayer I kept hearing the word, “hive,” I was perplexed. My fourteen-year-old daughter laughed at me and said, “Makes sense, Mom. Bees are following you everywhere you go.” I laughed, too, and just surrendered to it. 

Over the next six weeks, one thing after another drew my attention to the possibility of opening a lending library in my home. I scoffed. I have kids at home. The podcast and homeschooling keep me plenty busy. I only have 3,500 books. I am an introvert. I live in the woods 20-45 minutes away from any patron base. I have unpredictable health. But, the dream continued to settle into my heart. 

One day during the Christmas holidays, a sweet young mama friend reached out to me. She was profoundly frustrated. “Sara, I have had it with the public library. I am willing to do the leg-work and spend the money to build up my family library, but I just do not know where to start. Can you please help me?” It was right then and there that I was overcome with the vision of my library. I could see it perfectly. I understood what “hive” meant. I understood why the bees were following me. I laughed and said, “[Friend], you just gave me the push I needed. Come be my library guinea pig.” She protested that she really wanted to fill her house with the best books. I told her to come and check out all of mine and see which ones she liked best. 

For the next five months, her sweet family visited our chaos and checked out books. They helped us to see what we needed to do. They were patient with us and oh, so gracious. And when I announced our open house, they promoted it with everyone they knew. They have been a special blessing to us, and I thank God for that mama’s humility and subsequent trust in us. 

At the time of writing this, we have been officially open for six weeks. We have hosted two book clubs, many open houses, and many library days. We have 12 patron families completely committed and another six in various stages of the joining process. We have had a Mass of Consecration said in our home to dedicate the library to the Holy Spirit and are in the planning stages of hosting a nature club, a series of moms’ nights, and many, many more teen and kid book clubs. The whole family has thrown themselves into this. We are keenly aware that we are just baby librarians. We know enough to know that we really don’t know much except that God is in control and that we have a lot to learn. 

You can follow our journey at www.plumfieldandpaideia.com, on Instagram, and at our library page on Facebook. And, if you are in Northeast Wisconsin, maybe we could be your lending library? We are located in Denmark – 20 minutes from Green Bay, 30 minutes from Manitowoc, and 45 minutes from Sheboygan.  

This article is part of our Librarian Notices series of library stories at The Card Catalog. You can connect with us to comment on this story or any of our other library stories on our Facebook page.