The Librarian's Apprentice

The Librarian's Apprentice

Written by Noor Muhammad

In a quiet seaside town in Portugal, far from Lisbon’s buzz and the glamour of tourist trails, lived a boy named Luca. He was the son of a fisherman who rarely returned home dry and a mother who worked at a local diner, wiping tables and dreams at the same time.

Their home stood near the docks, a small two-room apartment with salt-dusted windows and creaky floors. The sound of seagulls was Luca’s alarm clock, and the smell of fish was his daily air. But what made him different wasn’t his poverty—it was his curiosity.

He didn’t have toys. He had questions.

📖 Library No OThene Used

At 14, Luca discovered a forgotten corner of the town: a dusty, near-abandoned public library that smelled like old wood and older wisdom. It stood next to a shuttered bakery, with its sign swinging like it was waving goodbye to time.

The librarian, Mrs. Duarte, was in her sixties and rarely saw visitors. When Luca first walked in, she looked up from her tea and simply said,

"You're lost?"

"No," he replied. "I’m here to find something."

She blinked. Then pointed to a shelf. “Start with the myths. They always hide the truths.”

📚 Becoming the Apprentice

Luca kept coming back. Every day after school and sometimes even before. He read about Greek philosophers, British poetry, the rise and fall of empires, and basic computer programming—all from the faded pages of books that hadn’t been touched in years.

Mrs. Duarte noticed. One day, she gave him a small key.

"To the back room," she said. "Help me catalog the forgotten ones."

That room had typewriters, record players, and manuals from a different world. One of them was titled:

"How to Build a Website in Ten Simple Steps."

Luca devoured it.

💻 The First Step Forward

By 16, Luca had taught himself enough coding and design to build a basic website. He created a local online catalog for the library’s books and promoted it through posters around town.

Within a month, curious teenagers and even adults started visiting again. Some came for the books. Others, just to see Luca. And the mayor? He noticed.

One rainy afternoon, Mayor Alves walked into the library and said,

"This boy has done more for our cultural center than our department has in five years."

🌍 A Bigger Dream

Luca didn’t stop there. With an old donated laptop and free Wi-Fi from the town café, he began freelancing. Small gigs. Logo designs. Translating articles. His first client was a bakery owner in Spain. Then came a local boat rental website in Greece.

Each project brought in a little money. Not much. But enough to buy his mother a new pair of shoes, and once—a raincoat for his father.

When asked why he never spent on himself, he simply said,

"Because I’m already investing—in myself, every day I learn."

🏫 The Scholarship

At 18, Luca applied to a tech-focused scholarship program run by a university in Porto. He submitted a project: a library digitization tool for small towns. He was shortlisted. Then selected.

Mrs. Duarte cried when she read the letter.

"You're not my apprentice anymore," she whispered. "You're the town's future."

🎤 Full Circle

Years passed. Luca graduated with honors. He didn’t forget where he came from. He returned to his hometown, this time as a guest speaker in the new community hall built beside the same old library.

Standing on stage, he said:

"I wasn’t poor because I had no money. I was poor because no one expected anything of me. But books… they expected everything. So I gave them everything."

He paused.

"Don’t wait for someone to open a door for you. If you can't find one, go to the library. Build your own."

💬 Why His Story Matters

Luca’s story isn’t about luck. It’s about the silent revolution of self-learning. It's about finding purpose between dusty shelves, and becoming something more—not to escape your roots, but to water them.

Today, the library has computers, classes, and a sign above its door:

“The Future Started Here.”

And Luca?

He still visits every Friday. Not to borrow books—

But to return gratitude.