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Gripping.
That is exactly the word I would use to describe my first reading experiences.
It’s something so fundamental that we all learn it – some of us quickly, some
of us more slowly. But it doesn’t just happen.
Who better to help me learn such a fundamental skill than the most fundamental
person in my life? Early on my mom taught me to read. I started with the
basics. We’ve all been there - learning the alphabet, the different sounds the
letters make, how they work together, and those pesky exceptions where a letter
unexpectedly changes its sound. It’s a thrilling experience! When I learned to
read it opened up a whole new world for me.
My
mom is an incredibly important person in my life. She has always loved to read,
and I say she has done well by teaching me to love it as well. I remember the
first “big book” that I decided to dive into. Now I know that Rowling’s writing
isn’t for everyone, but it was for my mom. When I was in second grade I cracked
open J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. That book was
such an adventure for me! It was as smarting as that first dive into a frigid
pool – the kind that knocks the air out of you. I’ll not hesitate to admit that
just like getting your breath back I kind of struggled through it, but it was
fantastic. I loved every one of the characters, the twists in the plot, and the
constant urge to know just what was going to happen next.
But
what happened next? I was inspired to keep reading, and reading, and learning
all that I could. That’s what reading is! The whole process of reading and
writing is how we share ideas – and oh the ideas that I’ve heard. Reading isn’t
only about learning though. Literature is an art. It just so happens that art is another thing that I’m very
interested in. I went from enjoying stories to appreciating the art of reading
and writing. To this day I still appreciate it.
Some
of my mom’s favorite books are either classics, or based in the same time
periods as many classics. Because of this, some of my favorite books include
Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo, Charles Dickens’ Great
Expectations and A Christmas Carol, and Shakespeare’s Merchant of
Venice. Yes, these are all very advanced works of art and are very hard to
read, but they all paint a picture more vivid than fresh ink splattered on a
waiting canvas.
There
is no doubt in my mind that I owe my love of reading to my mom. I have
cherished the journey on the path that I’ve tread thus far, and I look forward
to the adventure yet ahead. So in the words of J.R.R. Tolkien,
The Road goes ever on and
on
Down from the door where it
began.
Now far ahead the Road has
gone,
And I must follow, if I
can,
Pursuing it with eager
feet,
Until it joins some larger
way
Where many paths and
errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot
say.
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Peace, love, and happiness,
-Griff
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