Thank a Teacher

My love affair with books began early. When I got to first grade and "reading circle," a couple of kids in our class already knew how to read. That sparked a competitive gene in me and I was compelled to learn too. What I didn't know was that the world was about to change. There were universes unknown that suddenly became possibilities. I voraciously scarfed up all the stories in our readers, and then began checking out books from the school library. I would sneak them in by opening a reader and slipping the other book inside. I have yet to understand why teachers objected to this. I had already gobbled up the whole reader, so why would anyone hold me back? In third grade, the teacher brought in these little machines that helped us to read faster. Magic! 

When we homeschooled our own children, many years later, I assumed they would inherit my love for reading. But their genes leaned more to their Daddy's side, where uncanny abilities to bounce and throw spherical objects dominated their psyches. Even though all four of them loved nothing better than climbing trees and wending their way through the woods, I was able to persuade them occasionally to enjoy reading. Our youngest son, Jesse, a natural-born firebug, loved to build a fire in the fireplace first thing on winter mornings. We'd snuggle up around it in the living room and I would read to them. Such happy memories of those days, where the weather was blustery outside and we curled up like puppies to listen to a good story. More often than I care to admit, we'd all nod off after awhile and steal a morning nap. Oh for those simple pleasures!

Somewhere along the way, my husband became a scholar. He cared nothing for books, except his Bible, when we were first married. But when our current church nominated him for deacon, the preparation was nothing short of six months of seminary training. He was required to study a stack of books and actually learn what was in them. My athlete husband became a reader. Now, if his Kindle is running low on content, he asks me to find him something interesting to read. He has found the classics and other adventures, making up for lost time. Neither of us can get to sleep now without spending some time reading in the evenings. I love it.

Kindle has changed everything, as has Amazon. I still prefer a virtual book when I read -- it's the tactile process of turning the pages that makes it sweet. But I load up that Kindle with all manner of material, plus buy used books on Amazon with one simple swipe. Lord have mercy, it's all stacking up to the rafters, and the used book store closed down in Villa Rica. They used to trade books for store credit. Now I just donate them (well, sometimes). I keep books at every juncture in the house -- every table, desk, bedside, bathroom. You never know when you might find a minute. I'm truly grateful for all the folks in history who made it their mission to teach people to read. I believe it was Martin Luther, the Protestant Reformer, who said that every simple farm boy should be taught to read so that the Scriptures would be illumined to them. So today, I'd like to thank you, Miss Bell, who long ago taught me to read in first grade at Powder Springs Elementary. I don't know where you are but I sure am grateful.