Charlotte’s Book Fairy set out to help children – then created unintended magic
This column began as one about books and acts of kindness. It evolved into something bigger: about finding connection and hope during a lonely and overwhelming time. But before we get there, let’s start with books and acts of kindness. For that, let me introduce you to Sarah Ramberg of Belmont.
Ramberg is somewhat of a Robin Hood of children’s books. She buys books from places that have too many and gives them to neighborhoods that don’t have enough.
Her idea is simple yet brilliant: to buy used kids’ books from thrift shops, then fill Little Free Libraries in low-income neighborhoods that lack a library or bookstore. Ramberg began this project last fall with just ten books and quickly learned she underestimated the need. The first Little Free Library she visited in Enderly Park? Empty. The second in McCrorey Heights? Empty. This was more than a one-time event, she realized; it was a mission. All kids deserve books. Now, every few weeks, she uses an interactive map to find Little Free Libraries in book deserts, then heads that direction with a fresh stock.
To document her project, Ramberg set up the cltbookfairy Instagram account. People have taken notice. Neighbors now leave boxes of kids’ books at her house; strangers offer donations. She’s received more than 250 children’s books to fill Little Free Libraries. People around Charlotte feel a need to connect with Ramberg, which is ironic: Ramberg became the Charlotte Book Fairy to connect with Charlotte.
Now comes the part about hope and connection…
This generous project was not the result of an optimistic moment on a happy day. Instead, it’s proof that pain can point us towards hope. Ramberg began the book fairy project during her most difficult year: Her mom died, then her 12-year writing career took a hit from AI competition. So much stability, gone. When she talked to her therapist about her pain, her therapist offered advice she didn’t expect: Don’t just look within to heal, but look beyond. Connect with community.
This connection had been lacking. Ramberg and her husband, Jon, moved to Charlotte during the pandemic – a less-than-ideal time to meet people, especially for a couple that works from home.
“I love this city, but it’s an easy city to feel lonely in,” Ramberg said. “Most of us are transplants.”
It’s also an easy time to feel lonely. Despite our near-constant digital connection, more than half of U.S. adults feel disconnected or isolated, according to the American Psychological Association. And, like Ramberg, many of us feel that the stability we once enjoyed is threatened by a looming sense of uncertainty.
The therapist was right: Ramberg has discovered that community is a special form of medicine. During their book drops, she and Jon explore new-to-them neighborhoods, trying restaurants and shops along the way. It’s more than connecting to Charlotte, but also to Charlotteans. Donations and messages from neighbors and strangers have been a delightful surprise. The Charlotte Book Fairy has become a feel-good group project.
Ramberg wants to do more. She wants to see a more equitable distribution of Little Free Libraries across Charlotte and seeks to work with groups to achieve this.
“If you look at the map on the Little Free Library website, you’ll see big spots of the city that don’t have any,” Ramberg said. “It’d be great to see more.”
Ramberg wonders: What about putting new Little Free Libraries in parks? Maybe recreation centers? Her mission has grown. And, with it, so has her happiness.
“Doing the Little Free Library project isn’t just about finding little glimmers of joy, but creating my own glimmers of joy,” she said.
Inspired by Ramberg, I created my own glimmer. During a frustrating day, I took a break to go to Book Buyers with a stack of books I’ve already read. I traded them for a stack of kids’ books, which I took to fill a Little Free Library in Grier Heights, a book desert. The total cost of my glimmer: zero dollars and twenty minutes. And it turned my day and my mood around. It’s easy to feel helpless right now; it’s wonderful to remember that we’re not.
“I find hope in connecting with neighbors and strangers who also want to do something good. It gives me a lot of hope, and it chases off that loneliness,” Ramberg said. “We’re not alone in this, even if it’s easy to feel like it.”
Jen McGivney is a contributing columnist for the Charlotte Observer and a former columnist for Charlotte Magazine.