A couple of weeks ago I
posted on Facebook that my 96-year old mother continued to thrive. Responses by
the dozens flooded back. All remembered her kindness, cheer and encouragement.
The most remarkable feedback came from her 1954 fourth-grade students. 1954! Whoa
Nelly!
Those 1954 students especially
remembered her reading The Black Stallion
each day after lunch. Mother read to Cornel and me
just before tucking us in at bedtime. Our
uncles read to us. I especially remember Treasure
Island, Kidnapped and the Jungle Book.
When Vicki was recovering
from back surgery our daughter, Wende (a superb Audio Books-type reader) entertained
us with Cheaper By the Dozen.
On a
frigid winter night I read to Vicki. Our favorites: Anne of Green Gables and Peter Pan. Unlike Peter we have become,
ugh, adults and still call children books our favorites.
Reading aloud fills our hearts
with tender mercies, lasting love and wisdom from bygone days.
As I look back to long-ago
days I recall with fondness and respect teachers and coaches whose guidance has
never departed. We may never know those whom we may influence on paths we walk
each day.
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