Joy of Reading

This week I’m trying to think of all the things I’m thankful for. One which comes to mind is the person(s) who taught me to read. Reading is such a joy to me. It is rare that I don’t have at least one book open. Often chores aren’t completed because I just must read “one more chapter.” As a girl, my mother would call me to practice my music lesson or do a chore or for any of the other reasons that mothers call their children. The standard reply was “when I finish this page” because I’d be curled up in a big chair in the living room reading.

I really don’t remember learning to read. But someone had to teach me the alphabet, sight words, phonics and all the other things that go into reading. I’m so glad I learned because it has given me a great joy.

Have you thought about what it would be like if you couldn’t read? Street signs would be meaningless to you. You wouldn’t understand the back of the cereal box. You’d be limited to only buying groceries that have pictures on their labels … and you’d have to hope you didn’t have the experience of one couple I heard of who did that. They were new to the U.S. and couldn’t speak (or read) English. Their shopping by the pictures worked out pretty well until they opened the can that had a picture of fried chicken on it. It was a can of Crisco!

Most likely the person(s) who taught me to read are no longer with us. But if there’s a way to get a message to them, I’d like them to know I really am thankful that they took the time and trouble to teach me how to read.

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1 Response to Joy of Reading

  1. Susie says:

    I remember the great satisfaction of learning to read. The summer between first and second grade my dad took me to the Carnegie Branch Library in Houston, TX to get my library card. I will never forget it. I remember asking the librarian if they had any books for kids going into the second grade, They did! I remember getting story books from my eldest brother one Christmas. When the other kids in the neighborhood were outside riding their new bikes and playing with their new stuff, I was curled up with those books. My mother urged me to go outside and play, but I was in heaven, reading those books. What a joy.

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