I recently received pictures taken at preschool of my toddler great-grandson. His mother, my granddaughter, sent several to me. I look at the three poses carefully. I struggle to comprehend that I will not be alive when he is my age. I may not be alive when he’s a teenager! I am seventy-seven years old, in three months, seventy-eight.
In one of the poses, Sully holds an open book with both hands, looking down at it, entranced. I don’t remember the title of the very first book I sent to him but it had flaps and bright colors. His mother, my granddaughter Lydia, told me it was his favorite book. Telling me that was the best gift she could have given me – I felt so proud to have picked a book he loved. I would like to believe the books I’ve sent him since he was born have instilled a love of reading.
But his mother probably has more to do with making that happen, since she also loves reading and always has. I remember reading Wind Horse to her when she was a little girl. We would giggle with glee seeing the horse fly through the air over the rooftops.
Where did I get my love of reading that I shared with my children and their offspring?
Looking back, I have strong memories of my mom reading The Story of Little Black Sambo to me. I’m sure she read other books but that is the one I remember the most. I wonder why that particular book made such an impression on me. Perhaps because the jungle setting of the story was so different from our eighty acres farm with corn and cows, beans and chickens. What I remember the most is how Mom pretended to be the tiger nuzzling her head in my belly as she read the line, “I’m going to eat you up!” Then we would laugh and be silly.
That was a long time ago and times have changed. I remember learning several years ago that this book was full of problematic visual stereotypes. I wonder what Mom would say about that if she was still alive. I wouldn’t read it to my great-grandson. Luckily there are a plethora of books for me to read to him.
What hasn’t changed is the joy parents get from reading to their children and grandparents get reading and buying books for their grandchildren.
When is the last time you read a book to someone?
