From the parent of a child on the autism spectrum:
It’s a quiet Saturday morning at the branch. A few families gather in the children’s area—not as many as a typical storytime, and that’s by design.
This is Sensory Storytime, a monthly program at up to 7 branches of Ottawa Public Library, created for children with autism, developmental delays, or sensory sensitivities. I’ve read about it before, but today I decide to stay and observe.
In this space, it’s perfectly okay for little voices to rise and wiggles to take over—caregivers can breathe easy, knowing there’s no need to hush or apologize. Bins and tables are filled with sensory toys like squishy balls, textured scarves, and gentle fidget tools. A little girl presses a light-up toy in fascination while a boy nearby grins as he rolls a toy across a soft mat.
There’s no rush here. The families ease into the space at their own pace. Some kids stay close to their caregiver’s lap, others explore a little farther. The librarian—calm, smiling, present—moves at their rhythm, greeting everyone individually.
About halfway through the hour, the group gradually transitions into a circle time for the story and song portion. The librarian uses a gentle voice and brings out a large picture book. Some children watch closely. Others listen from the play area. No one is asked to sit still or “pay attention.” And yet—there’s attention. A boy rocks side to side with the music. A parent sings softly with the librarian. A puppet comes out, and a few giggles ripple through the room.
As the session wraps up, families linger. Some chat. Others pack up slowly. No one is hurried out. It’s clear this space isn’t just about stories. It’s about connection. As I left, another parent smiled and said, “See you next month?” I smiled back. Yes. Yes, you will.