Last night we went to a book signing. What’s the big deal, you say. First, it is a very special book, written by Karen Williams and Khadra Mohammed. Read more about it here. Karen and Khadra are both very special women. Khadra runs the Pittsburgh Refugee Center. Karen is a writer who does no end of incredible things; read about her here. 
This is Karen reading to the children who came
to the event.
The older children were reading to 
themselves.
But the astonishing thing about the event was the place where it was held.
About six blocks from where I live is a huge old warehouse. It looks almost deserted. Casablance Gallery has a mural painted on the truck entrance door to the building, and someone who repairs musical instruments, or teaches music, has something painted on another door. Neither place ever seems to be open, and the neighborhood appears to be iffy, at best. We walked down the street uncertain about whether we were in the right place. Steve spotted some balloons in front of an open door. Stepping inside was like walking into another world–a magical world.
Everything was clean and shiny, beautiful color on the walls, wonderful decorations to look at as you walked up the stairs. 
The huge loft space was organized by conversation groupings–sofas, chairs and decorative items inviting you to sit and be comfortable, but also be excited and examine all of the interesting objects decorating the group. None of these pictures 
does justice to what I saw. I wanted to live there, at least in a small part of the space. When it was time to leave I felt like we were breaking the spell; going back to the real world.
100 Books Before I Die 
