Books, Community, and a Little Magic on Loubet Street
Loubet Little Library: Take a Book, Leave a Book
Hi friends,
Last week, Ally and I planted something small with big hope: the Loubet Little Library.
It’s a blue box on our quiet Queens street, filled with donated books and an open invitation: take one, leave one, or just pause for a moment. No library or credit card needed, just curiosity. There’s something special about the moments when we slow down, look around, and engage with the world in a different way. That’s what we hope Loubet Little Library brings to our street.
Hopefully, it’s a space for discovery, unexpected encounters, and shared moments with neighbors and strangers. A place where a child might find their first adventure story that helps them fall in love with reading for life. Or where an old favorite can land in new hands, or where a passerby might be reminded of the beauty in slowing down, if only for a page or two.
Since setting it up last week, we’ve already seen people stop, some flipping through the titles, others leaving behind books they once loved for someone else to enjoy. In an era of AI and smartphones everywhere, we hope that Loubet Little Library is a small but meaningful invitation to pause, connect, and add a little more beauty to our corner of the world.
So, if you’re ever walking by in Queens, take a look. Come by for tea or coffee. Grab a book. Leave one behind. Or just take a moment to appreciate the power of stories and community, right here on Loubet Street (Lew-bay).



The library came to fruition thanks to the help of a family friend, Dr. Greg Gulbransen, a pediatrician and photographer on Long Island. Knowing he’s well-connected, I asked if he happened to know anyone who could build us a little free library. Within a few weeks, Greg had already taken care of everything. He paid for it, organized the build, and even arranged for pickup at his house.
Think of your bookcase as a wine cellar. You collect books to be read at the right time, the right place, and the right mood.
Our little library is the newest chapter just a few months after Ally and I finished creating our living room library, where all our books now live. That project was personal: making space for the stories that shaped us, the ones we return to, and the ones still waiting to be read. This new little library feels like an extension of that, only now, it opens outward. It's a way of sharing, of inviting neighbors and passersby into the quiet joy of a good book discovered by chance.
We’ve also been thinking about how to make the Loubet Little Library more than just a place to borrow books, how it could become a small hub of care, creativity, and connection. Alongside books, we might soon include a mini pantry stocked with non-perishable food and toiletries for neighbors in need, labeled simply: Take what you need, leave what you can. We could offer a jar of handwritten positive notes or affirmations, and invite others to contribute their own words of encouragement.
One shelf could feature a rotating kids’ section with coloring pages, small toys, or DIY bookmarks. We might even add seasonal items like gloves or hand warmers in the winter, and sunscreen or water in the summer. A corner for free seed packets or a “take a plant, leave a plant” tray could support community gardening. And with a little space for flyers or printouts, we could occasionally share local resources, events, or services. With a few touches, the library could become a place for stories but also for kindness, creativity, and mutual care.
But it will at least begin with books, which, for centuries, have sparked revolutions. World-changing ones, yes, but also deeply personal ones. Maya Angelou’s words gave voice to the voiceless. Frederick Douglass taught himself to read and rewrote his fate. Oprah, Steve Jobs, and so many founders found their path not in boardrooms, but in the pages of books that challenged their thinking or broadened their perspectives.
That’s the quiet power of stories: they make us more human. They stir something in us. Sometimes, they give us permission to dream of something bigger.
I dream of creating something larger one day: a bookshop and café that doubles as a community space, where people can gather for events, workshops, open mics, yoga, meditation, free literacy classes, financial literacy classes, job search help, or simply to feel seen and connected. But for now, we start here. With a few books, a sidewalk, and a belief that small things grow.
Celebrate your gifts,
Matthew
This is beautiful Matthew.