Thank you Mama for giving me the gift of reading

Take a moment, who taught you to read? Was it a parent, a teacher, a sibling? Have you thanked them? 

When I was four years old my Mama sat me down at the foot of her bed and opened a large book full of reading lessons. Every day we sat at the foot of her bed going through those lessons. I actually have one vague memory of sitting there with her bright Colorado Sunshine streaming in through her large bedroom windows. 

I am not the easiest person to teach. I am very easily distracted, I can’t hold still. My mind wanders, I’m a disaster. And yet, every day, Mama sat there with me making me feel loved and confident and sharing what is honestly the greatest gift I think you can give a child. She gave me the gift of reading. 

I don’t have any other memories of being little and Mama reading to me though I know without a doubt in my mind that she did. Mama loves reading, Mama used to walk around our house with her walkman in a fanny pack and headphones firmly on going through her 50 page reading list that she kept printed in her nightstand and periodically crossed titles off with a pencil she kept by her bed. 

When I was in elementary and middle school the homeschooling program we used had “read alouds”. Mama would buy me these amazing coloring books and have me sit down on the couch with her and she would read aloud every day to my sister and I from novels that will always be close to my heart because of it. 

She took us to the library at least once a week and let us get as many books as we wanted. She had a binder that she logged every book in to keep track. I remember being at the library, I think I was about 6 years old and I was playing with another little girl and she was telling me how she just turned 6 so she was allowed to choose 6 picture books to take home. I was baffled, I was like wait what? Your mom makes you count? My mom brought a bag and said go for it. I was never told, you can’t take that many books home, that’s too many, you can’t read that. I was occasionally told something had too mature of content for me to read, not reading level, she never told me I couldn’t read something because it was above my level. As long as it wasn’t mature content it was fair game. 

When I think of books and reading, how much I love it, how free I feel when I read. I’m always reminded of Mama, and how she fostered that love of reading in me. How she passed that on. 

From one bookworm to another, Happy Birthday Mama, thank you for always handing me books to read, for always encouraging me to keep reading and never telling me I couldn’t read something because of my age or supposed reading level. I am eternally grateful.