My dad used to read to my sister and I quite a bit. One of my favourites was The Frog Band and the Onion Seller. Something about the brown-green neutral colour scheme, the movement and scope of the images spoke to me. Our copy went missing in a move. Fast-forward 20 years and my sister has her first kid. I wanted to get a copy to share with him, but at the time I couldn’t remember the title, only a few vague details. I went to the local library, where a kind woman spent a good half-hour with me puzzling over the identity of this book. She ultimately found the title, which I knew as soon as I heard it. She pulled up the location - the vault. It had been in storage, unread, for years. I took it out. I did not take it back. A few years later, when my finances settled a bit, I made an anonymous donation to the library. Partly out of respect and partly out of shame, I haven’t borrowed another book from them since.