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.
Another good memory of Mom and books was later when I was a young teenager. My church youth pastor had formed several small study groups. I was placed in one where the group book was to be one of the Navigators theology books. At that age, my comprehension for anything non-science fiction or fantasy was pretty meager. Being a very tightly wound kid, I was worried sick about this class. Mom saw my stress and came to my rescue. She read the book to me, and I retained the book despite its density.
And now, Mom is still imparting that love of books along to Iris. She started this fun little periodic “book club” with Iris a while back. She calls it her “IGOBC”. Every month or so, we get a IGOBC package with a new book and note. Iris’ library is filling up and that’s a good thing.
Thanks, Mom, for investing in me the value of books and reading. We are passing that on to the next generation.
Mom informs me that the title was Tales of the Kingdom. Seeing the jacket again brings back such good memories.