WHEN THE READING LIGHT WENT ON

There were always children’s books in our house. They were passed down and around. Christmas and birthdays were always an occasion to give books.

My mother was a stay-at-home mom. If I took a book to her, she made the time to sit and read it with me. When my sister, who was 4 years older han me, went to school, I would be home alone with mother. I remember sitting in the big purple chair in the living room reading nursery rhymes with her. I remember “Over in the Meadow” and “Hansel and Gretel.” I remember the great big anthologies. We had lots and lots of stories to read.

Even before I started school, I don’t remember wanting to be anything else other than a teacher. I knew from the time I was 4 years old. That was it. Books were always a part of that. They were my own special place. After I began school, I would come home after class, close myself in my bedroom with my record player and read books. I would read “The Hardy Boys” and biographies of famous people like George Washington and Harriet Beecher Stowe. It was always very relaxing.

Now books are my total relaxation. When I go home at the end of the day, I dump everything else out of my mind and pick up a book and read. I love mysteries, nonfiction, bestsellers. I read cereal boxes.

Here at school there’s a group of us who share books. When teachers finish one, they initial it and put it in someone else’s box. There’s a group of us who all like the same kind of stories.

I like to go into classrooms and sit down and read a book to the class. The more children see that adults enjoy reading, hopefully that’s going to rub off on them.