Sometimes the World Needs a Little Magic!
I do not remember life before the little black book. My first memory is fluttering pages slowly flying over me in my crib. A page removed itself from the binding and began to fold. Fold after fold the page gracefully twisted and spun in the air. Drifting down into my hands it had taken the form of a swan with a long neck and carefully tilted head as if it were sent to watch over me.