When I stepped into the brown-tiled entryway of the Kentwood Public Library, the sunlight flowing down on me from the high windows, I felt a sense of importance. It gratified me to be in a place devoted to books and quiet; I was filled with a sense of hope. Reading to me fundamental, as fundamental as food. And nothing could be more satisfying than reading a good book while eating a good meal of soup, french fries, and a thin cut of steak. I plowed through books as fast as possible in order to read them again.