Discover how one father’s emotional tribute to a beloved public library captures the power of community, storytelling, and lifelong learning.
Sometimes, the most heartfelt love letters aren’t written to people. Sometimes, they’re written to places. That’s exactly what one dad did when he sat on a park bench and poured out his gratitude to a small-town library that helped raise his kids. His story is a beautiful reminder that libraries aren’t just buildings—they’re family.
(Be prepared—you might need tissues!)
A Love Letter That’s Not What You Think
Picture this: a dad, sitting on a bench on a crisp morning in Massachusetts, scribbles something heartfelt. It’s not a note to his spouse, although it is certainly a love letter…
But it’s for his local library.
That’s right. The letter was written to the Beverly Public Library, which had been opened in 1913. The dad in question was Sean Devlin, a stay‑at‑home dad of two.
Sean wrote his tribute whilst sitting comfortably on a bench across from the Beverly Public Library. But rest assured, he wasn’t writing metaphors about the turn of the century architecture or the thrill of the Dewey Decimal system (sorry, librarians). Nope. He was celebrating the life this library breathed into his family.
Sean admitted that he had never used a library as a kid or young adult. But fast‑forward to parenthood, his two children, Rory and Natasha, grew up frequenting the children’s room. There, the two of them, and Sean himself, fell in love with the wooden train, the giggles during story time, time spent crafting in cozy corners, and stacks and stacks of books to take home. Sean laments that it wasn’t long before the librarians became more than staff; they became family.
The Letter in Full
It was a beautiful late August morning with a hint of fall in the air. I sat on a black, metal bench at the Beverly Commons across the street from the Beverly Public Library. With my notebook in hand I began writing my love letter to the library. It was long overdue.
We had dropped off our daughter, Natasha, at college yesterday and our son, Rory, recently graduated college last May. They both do really well academically. They deserve most of the credit, but some must go to the Beverly Public Library and of course their parents who brought them there.
When they were just babies, Rory and Natasha would crawl around the Children’s Room at the library. Soon enough the wooden train whistle would blow and they were lining up to go to Story Hour and to make crafts in the craft room. They both would take out big stacks of book to bring back home.
My wife, Michele, would read to them every night. There were books everywhere. By now the librarians were like family and the library itself was a home away from home. We were even going to retirement goodbyes and memorial services, one being for our dear friend and children’s librarian, Nancy Bonne.
Eventually, Natasha and Rory started volunteering at the library and participated in fundraising events for the new Bookmobile and they also helped with the library book sale. The Election Day book sale was always fun with books and people everywhere and all the excitement of the election.
We even went on a library tour in the North End with the author, Stephen Puleo, who had written about the great molasses explosion of 1919.
When Rory and Natasha entered high school they both got jobs at the Children’s Library. They were now the ones checking out books and preparing the crafts, working with the same librarians who had once read to them during Story Hour. Their library job helped them save for college. Luckily, they both got jobs at their college libraries. So not only did their library experience help them get into college, but it also helped them pay for it.
So this is my love letter to the Beverly Public Library and all their staff both living and dead. I finished writing, clicked my pen and placed my notebook back in my bag. When I stood up from the bench a young mother and her child walked by. The child looked up to me and said. “I’m going to the library.”
Sean Devlin,
Beverly, Massachusetts
From Crawling to College
Sean’s letter describes a journey from toddler days to college age. Rory and Natasha went from crawling around the children’s room, joining story hour, then, as teenagers, helping lead the very same story hours and crafts. They even landed summer jobs at the library, gaining work experience while saving for college. Bonus: They worked at their college libraries, too! Talk about a full circle.
Sean credits part of his kids’ success getting into and through college to their experiences at the library. He calls it a love letter, “long overdue,” and reading it, you really can just feel the gratitude. Sean seems to really acknowledge that his family owes more to the librarians and volunteers at Beverly Public Library than just overdue fines.
A Love Shared
The love for Beverly isn’t just something Sean feels, though. At the end of his letter, he added one little note.
He wrote that, on that crisp morning, after finishing the letter, he packed up his notebook and got up. Just as he did so, a young mother and her little one passed by, and the kid looked at Sean and said, “I’m going to the library.”
Sean and his children may not need Beverly Public Library the way they did when Rory and Natasha were young, but there will always be new toddlers and children pulling at their parents’ hands to get through the doors of the library quicker.
Whether it’s for the story hours, the free tales of excitement, drama, and adventure, or anything else, libraries will always be a place of joy for those who know how to appreciate them, and it seems that through his children, Sean finally got the chance to see that.
The Things They Loved
Sean’s love letter to Beverly Public Library didn’t stop at the kids’ section. He recalled all sorts of fun he and his kids shared within the library’s walls.
They joined in on Election Day book sales, which were bustling with people and the excitement that only comes with having just had the chance to change your country’s future.
They got the chance, at one point, to go on a library tour in the North End with Stephen Puleo, who had written about the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.
But it wasn’t just educational. The Devlin family was also invited to retirement celebrations and memorials, and got to say goodbye to beloved children’s librarian and close friend, Nancy Bonne, who left a huge impact on Sean and on his children.
A Call to Action: Use Your Library!
Sean’s story should do more than simply make your heart swell. It should serve as a reminder, a call to action for you to whip out that library card and head down to your local library. Bring your kids. Volunteer. Go to story hour. Attend local events. Support the staff. Libraries survive and thrive when people show up in person.
Without support from those who live nearby, tales like Sean’s wouldn’t be possible. When libraries go unused, their funding dwindles, and, eventually, they’re forced to close. To keep them alive, we have to make sure we use them—even if it’s not as much as Sean and his family did!
This heartwarming tale goes beyond Beverly. It’s about every town that has a public library. Sean’s love letter gives us permission to love ours. Maybe it’s a sign that we should all write one someday.
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Millie Ramm
Millie has been writing since she was a child, and has spent more time with her nose in books than anywhere else. She has been ghostwriting novels and editing for the past few years, and when not working she is curled up with her cats, looking for her next read.
