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It was the store’s policy to let a child fill a shopping bag with books on their birthday.

For my seventh birthday, December 30, 1953, my mother surprised me with our first trip together by trolley to Leary’s Bookstore. It was a large three-story building with a sloped roof. Including the basement there were four floors of books and a mezzanine. The children’s books were on the top floor. I proudly presented Mr. Leary with my birth certificate and gave him a dollar. It was the store’s policy to let a child fill a shopping bag with books on their birthday. My mother left me there to choose my books and went to work at Strawbridge’s, only a few blocks away. In those precious hours surrounded by books, I was completely alone, an entire morning of unmitigated joy… That day a new ritual unique to us was born, based on our common passion for books. Despite our difficulties, she maintained an attentiveness to the things that were important to me. For the rest of her life, she gave me books for my birthday…

— Patti Smith, Bread of Angels: A Memoir (Random House, November 4, 2025)