To my reader
I love this sight of you, the sight of you everywhere, every day, reading. I love that yesterday you got in trouble in class for reading too much. It reminds me of the late-night lectures I used to get from my dad when he’d find me at 2 a.m. in my bed, light on, completely lost in the pages of some story.
I can’t wait to hand off my special shelf of YA reads to you, and let you discover the wonder of Harry Potter (soon!), “The Indian in the Cupboard”, “Hatchet”, “My Side of the Mountain”, and all the good stuff written by Beverly Cleary, Louis Sachar, E.B. White, and Roald Dahl. I can’t wait to see you get so caught up in a book that you hold your breath until the last page and come stumbling into my room to give me the play-by-play.
But in all the goodness that literature has to offer, I hope you learn, far earlier than I did, that there is life to be lived outside the pages of a book. It is a lesson I still grapple with, as I slowly awake to a world around me that is pulsing with opportunity and remarkable people. Cull together all that knowledge from the printed word, but please remember, once in a while, to stand and gather your own stories, touch people, smell grass, pet dogs, get dirty. Share what you’ve learned. And in the end you will create a story of your own that will be just as remarkable as anything a book has to offer.
Happy reading. Happy living.