As I continue through my sentimental journey of my oldest boy’s love affair with books…
Age 4 to 7 was the age of learning to read!
Personally, I think learning to read is a real, true, honest-to-goodness, bonafide, MIRACLE.
It is absolute magic to see a little someone make sense of those funny lines on a page: to find meaning and then joy. To be able to connect and understand. Ahhh. It’s just so very very wonderful.
As a mother, I think this stage of loving books was one of my absolute favorites. We had to make trips to the library several times a week. We read everything. The good, the bad and the ugly. This boy was still willing to listen to just about anything – but he learned to evaluate and rate. To have favorites.
Here are some books I remember us loving together – but I’m not sure it would be the same list he would have made – for instance I had to hide some painful Mickey Mouse versions of fairy tales because I simply could not bear to read them one single time more…
- OWL MOON by Jane Yolen
- BURT DOW, DEEP WATER MAN by Robert McCloskey
- TWO COOL COWS by Toby Speed
We moved on to longer stories. I read him novels – Charlotte’s Web by EB White is one of the all time perfect read alouds.
And somewhere along the way, in what seemed like no time at all… this boy went from reading primer worksheets to reading the Magic Treehouse series (I wonder how many millions of kajillions of modern readers have been lured in and taught by Mary Pope Osborn) and then one day he was reading this big old honking brand new book called Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by some JK Rowling person. Grandma had heard it was supposed to be pretty good so she gave it to him for his seventh birthday.
I thought it was cute that he was pretending to read it on his own. Until I asked him what it was about. And he told me -with shining eyes – about the mistreated boy who was really a wizard… and wow, I knew he could read anything. And would!
Sarah Wones Tomp
WRITING ON THE SIDEWALK