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Little Free Library

ATLANTA -- "Books are among some of my favorite things."

Sitting in his Druid Hills Road home, David Laufer is surrounded by books, two of the four walls of his den packed floor to ceiling with shelves and hundreds of books.

"They make kind of a nice environment."

Laufer waxes poetic about books as he pages through them.

"The turning of the pages is like the passing of days."

He even put his love of them into action, carving books from wood.

And of course, he writes books.

"I'm working on a book titled 'Very Graphic.'"

Laufer's bookcentric existence extends beyond his Druid Hills home, because right outside his door, a little movement is having a big impact.

What looks like a giant bird house sitting near his mailbox, is actually something quite old fashioned, though you may not recognize it; it's a library. A Little Free Library.

"I thought geez I want one of those."

Laufer remembers when he heard about two men from up north who started Little Free Libraries, which work as the name suggests. You take books, you bring books.

RELATED |  Learn more about Little Free Libraries

"I looked at the map and there were none in the Southeast, and I thought I know all these witty and literate and bookish people and we oughtta have at least one here!"

So he built his library, he put in books, and he waited.

He said, at first, "People didn't know quite what to make of it."

That phase didn't last very long.

Now neighbors arrive by bike, by car, on foot, armed with books, or looking for that next great find. And as the books came and the books went, another amazing thing began to happen.

"I think the unexpected joy of it is started out being about the books, but it's really about your local community."

Neighbors met. Got to know each other. And they left this little library with an unexpected find.

There are now more than 800 Little Free Libraries in 28 states and six countries, a dozen in Georgia.

In a world where screens fill our lives, and we are supposedly more connected than ever, there is still room for things that can be touched, felt-- then shared, traveling hand to hand.

There's nothing little about that.