Most people don’t remember when they learned to read.
I do.
I remember the precise moment in first grade when the black lines on a page came together to form words I could understand. I remember what it felt like, the swell of excitement in my chest, the fascination. I was overwhelmed and from that moment on, I was in love with reading.
Even before that moment I was in love with books.
My parents read to me a lot before I could read myself and there was one book in particular that I wanted read to me over and over again. It got to the point where at 3 or 4 years of age, I had the thing memorized.
My dad got a kick out of asking me to “read” my favorite book to dinner guests. I had it memorized so well, I even knew when to turn the page. The visitors were amazed as I “read” the book out loud and my dad would tell them I was clearly a genius.
Fast forward to elementary school and my favorite part of school was access to the library, which I went to every change I got.
I remember being shown the school library for the first time and learning how to find books using the Dewey Decimal System and the card catalogue (yes I’m that old). I was so excited I could barely sit still. I couldn’t believe that I had access to an entire room filled with books!
Each year, I would pick a bookcase at random and I would read every book on it by the end of the school year, checking them out one at a time. I did that all the way through middle school as well.
My parents bought me a box set of THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA and I devoured them multiple times. I also read the novelization of E.T. I read A BEAR CALLED PADDINGTON, which I passed on to my oldest son, who then passed it on to my oldest granddaughter. I read stacks of Beverley Cleary and Judy Blume novels, and I don’t know how many Hardy Boys mysteries. I just couldn’t get enough. I would even pull volumes of the encyclopedia set off the shelves in our home and read random articles from them.
When I was in 7th grade, my parents got me a subscription to the Reader’s Digest classic book collection and the first volume, which I opened on Christmas morning, was THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE. I still have that book. And from then on, being gifted books felt like an expression of love to me.
When people ask me how I read so many books each year, and I don’t read as many as other people I know, I am afraid my answer is not very satisfying.
I just love to read and I always have. It’s not a chore. It’s a delight.
As Stephen King said, “Books are a uniquely portable magic.”
Joseph McBee 