Childhood Stories

Sometime in our life there was a story that got us into reading. For a while I considered it to be the first book that I was obsessed with, but as I think over my childhood I realize that I got into reading way before then. The book that I had pegged as the one that got me into reading was merely the first book that I had fell completely in love with. But my love for reading and story telling started long before I read the first book that I had loved.

It all started before I knew how to read, before my dad and I would read Tabby In The Tub to each other before bed.

My love for stories started in a pink room surrounded by the woods off a road called Sesame Street (yes, that’s really the street name.) It was planted and watered every other weekend at night before we went to sleep when my older sister would crawl into my bed and sit with me, my dad sitting on a chair in front of my old bed that made me feel like royalty (even though it was a super old and rickety bed frame.) We’d bounce around while our dad would try and calm us down and tuck me into my blankets. When we’d calm down we’d all sit and lay and begin our story.

Our story wasn’t something you could pick up and physically hold. The story we were told every night while we were at our dad’s came from pure imagination. My sister and I would shout out what we wanted the story to have in it, what we anticipated would happen next. Our dad would quiet us down and cater the story to what we wanted.

When I asked if she was a princess, he would make her a princess. When we shouted out what we thought should happen next, he’d slyly move into a dramatic voice describing what we just ‘guessed’.

After a while we stopped telling stories and started reading stories, my sister not joining us anymore. I was failing horribly in the reading department and I didn’t enjoy it much even though I loved hearing stories. So my dad took it upon himself to have me read books to him. We’d go back and forth, a few pages each night. There’s one book that I can remember reading every night, Tabby In The Tub.

I still have the book because it still brings back fond memories. Especially the memories of when I would stumble upon a big word that I had no clue how to pronounce and my dad would help me and then praise me when I got it right without asking for help. I looked forward to reading and story telling every night when I was at his house and when that ended, when we got too old and my dad got too busy, I craved for that feeling again.

When my childhood got rough I longed for the nostalgia of our night time story telling and I turned to books, hoping to find the feelings I had every night at my dad’s house all those years ago. And I found them in some of the book series’ that I became obsessed with *cough cough* Warriors and Percy Jackson.

My childhood stories crafted my love for reading. It was the foundation from which it grew.

What got you into reading?