I owe my reading life to Mom. I remember her reading to my sister and me throughout our childhood. I think there’s power in the spoken word for a young child; my imagination was exercised regularly very early on.
And now I see how that cycle is repeating, as I read books to Iris at bedtime. I find myself reading like Mom, borrowing the cadence and sentiment. Mom’s a great reader.
One of my favorites was a Christian allegorical book. It was set in a medieval period; part fantasy, part adventure, the children were the only seers among the adults as to the true nature of the missing king in the land. It was a wonderful book with big ideas.