I went to the copy shop the other day to make hand-outs for class. The family that owns the store was busy helping customers and fixing problems at the three copy machines lined up by the wall. I stood near the counter waiting for the young lady owner, who was deftly flipping through the pages of a book, scanning each one on the machine, and then going to the next page. No doubt the whole book would soon be copied and bound.
A young girl, maybe six years old, squatted by a stack of rainbow-colored boxes at the door. She was engrossed in her task: She placed her open children’s book face down on the box, pushed it back and forth on the surface of the box, and then flipped to the next page to do it all again. She was her mother in miniature – a copied copy girl in training. I was charmed.
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