Who Doesn’t Love a Book?
As a few students were editing their narrative pieces, I let the others lie on the rug. Their only criteria for allowing them to lie on the pillows was their having to read. When I looked over at the unusually quiet girls, I was surprised and pleased at this scene.
They didn’t know I was watching and while E- was reading, the other girls lay in rapt attention.
I don’t remember being read to–my siblings might have memories of this, but I don’t. And I know my parents read to us–how else would we have learned to love books?
I liked them so much that I brought one of my favorite books to my 2nd-grade classl for Show and Tell. I was insanely excited about taking my turn to show–I even remember the book: . (The 1950s version.) But I fell . . . flat . . . on . . . my . . . face. No one was interested in my book. They were barely paying attention. Some were looking out the window. Playing with things in their desks. And the worst: rolling their eyes. They barely clapped when it was over. I mean, how could I compete with a turtle, a trophy, and a WWII helmet?
But it didn’t discourage me–some children just do not like to read. Period. So when I saw my girls “in the moment” on the rug, my heart was warmed. I so hope that they learn to love books as I do. Who doesn’t love a book?
© Teresita Abad Doebley. All rights reserved 2009-2011.