I have another reading goal this year. I have it set at goodreads (want to be friends there? Please visit this link and add me: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/1452475-sandy) to 30 books for the year. Last year, I think I may have had a goal for over 50… I don’t recall but I know I didn’t reach it!
Anyway, I’ve been reading since I was little and my mom pushed it on me until I gave in. She gave me books for just about every gift- giving occasion and always for Christmas. I remember the first book set she bought me. It was the entire Little House on the Prairie series by Laura Ingalls Wilder and came in a box. I was ten years old and the gift wasn’t nearly as exciting to me as the doll I happily started taking everywhere I went. Mom asked me if I had started reading my new books yet and I told her I hadn’t. When I told her I was bored, she’d suggest I read my new books. She told me they were really good books and that reading was a wonderful thing to do.
I finally told her I didn’t really like reading. As she tidied up our home after being at work all day, she talked to me about reading. She told me, “Anyone who loves having books read to them will want to one day, read for themselves.” I loved having books read to me. I literally remember sitting on a colorful Headstart floor for my favorite activity. . . and it was story time. I loved the sound of the teacher’s voice as she read and how she turned the book around to show us the pictures. I loved the way each page flipped into another, new scene.
At home, my oldest sister would have grown bored from reading books to me except she loved reading as much I loved being read to. She was the only one in the world who would read me the copyright page and for me, a book had that page in it for a reason!
For Christmas, someone had given mom a bag of candy bars to give my younger sister and I. They were a type I didn’t like and they sat, unopened by my new set of books. One day, I had no one to play kick -ball with, my younger sister didn’t want to play any of the games I wanted to play. I was just desperate enough to pull the first book out of my set. By this time, it was summer and it was cooler inside than out. I thought a candy bar (they were miniatures) would help get me through the chore of reading and I plopped onto my bed with a candy bar in one hand and “Little House in the Big Woods” in my other.
Two hours later, there were five crumpled candy bar wrappers on the floor next to my bed and I had finished a good part of the book. I learned a love of reading that day that as only grown more and more ravenous since. I did almost nothing that summer until each volume one of the books in the series were read. I ate the entire bag of candy bars in a matter of days and felt sad when I finished the last sentence in “By the Shores of Silver Lake”.
If you like to read, when did you start? What books brought reading to life for you? If you are not a reader, what is holding you back?