My Daughter’s Love of Reading

I have some pretty amazing kids. They are 23, 20, 18, 5, 2, and 2! Today and Monday I’m going to be sharing some things my oldest two recently blogged about. So proud of them!

My daughter Leslie shares about how she got her love of reading.

“I tiptoe across the floor of my room, trying to force the sound of my footsteps into the plush white carpet. Swinging the door open carefully, so as not to hit the side of the crib, I glance down and see tufts of blonde hair peeking out from under fleece Mickey Mouse blankets. Gentle snores grumble through a snotty nose. Closing the door behind me, I chuckle at the thought that not many college seniors share their room with a toddler… especially when the child is not their own. I step into the hall and overhear Dad’s playful call in the girls’ room: “Alright! Who’s ready for Chapter Time!” Giggling, the two girls jump into their beds and Mom pulls the blankets up around their chubby cheeks as Dad settles back with a picture book. Heading downstairs to work on homework, I smile as the ever-familiar deep hum of his voice follows me down.

Growing up, “Chapter Time” was family time. I have to admit, this was a clever move on my parents’ part. They had been struggling to make us stay in bed at night, and realized that we settled down much better if they read to us before we fell asleep. What started as a toddler anecdote became family tradition. Every night, without fail, my brothers and I would line up on my parents’ bed and Dad would read us a single chapter. Series after series, book after book: Chronicles of Narnia, the Light of Eidon, the Hobbit. Tales of adventure and love, of heroes that would go to the ends of the earth (or another world) to ensure that truth and light prevails. This was always the favorite part of my day. Even Dad’s business trips couldn’t stop us! He would pack the current book in his suitcase, and we would huddle around the speakerphone at night and listen to his familiar—yet slightly more metallic—voice. I knew that voice by heart. I would snuggle up next to him, his “Girl Squirrel,” and lay my head on his chest. As he spoke, I could hear the words as much through the air as through his being, the beat of his heart keeping pace. When not snuggled up, my father and I even worked out an elaborate foot-massage system: we would sit with our feet aiming at each other and rub the other person’s feet while he read. Now that seems an unusual memory. However, I have always loved foot rubs.

Around the age of thirteen or fourteen, I found myself “maturing”—Chapter Time was losing its luster. I came to the decision that I was far too old to still have my Dad to read to me, so the night came that I ignored my dad’s call to join. Sitting proudly alone in my room, I heard my father and brothers together, the stories continuing as they always would. Proud and sulking… as much as I wanted to grow up, I didn’t want to be left out.

Not long after, Chapter Time slowly slipped out of the family routine.”

Read the rest of Leslie’s blog by clicking here!

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