Anne grew up in the small town of Nekoosa, Wisconsin. Nekoosa, which is Ojibwa for ‘swift waters’, lies on the banks of the Wisconsin River. Anne’s older siblings took her with them when they ice-skated on a shallow inlet of the river. Too young to skate, she skidded around in her boots, discovering winter. The ice held intriguing colors and mysterious bumps. Brittle reeds on the snowy edges of the pond were dancing to the wind’s music. There may have been a fairy or two. Here lay magic!

Back in the warm house, she often was privileged to attend tea parties with wonderful women who showed her the delights of holding a delicate tea cup, the satisfaction of a well-knit row, and the joys of talking, really talking, with people.

Then there was the little public library. After a hot walk on a summer’s day, Anne would struggle to open the heavy door and enter the world of smooth oak tables, shelves of books to be explored, and a librarian who knew exactly how to help children fall in love with books.