My Dearest Granddaughter,
I write this while you are in school today. I hope you are enjoying your class and your friends but above all the many books that surround you. The last time I was in your classroom, the shelves were lined with many titles — many familiar to me.
Today, I am writing to you about my love of reading. As you know, learning to read was very difficult for me. Maybe you remember my telling you about my Mom helping me every night to sound out the syllables as she sat patiently with me. I think she felt sad because I was struggling.
But then, in fourth grade, my teacher, Mrs. Thompson, came up with a plan that opened the door to books for me and to this day I thank her. WHAT PLAN?? By the end of that year, I was reading a book a week, looking forward to getting my Library card that spring. Those are great memories.
Loving to read has taken me all over the world through books written about faraway places. I have shared animal stories with authors, fallen in love with characters and cried when their lives filled with sadness. I even studied languages, learned history and developed my love of drawing through books. In other words, books were my best teachers; along with Mrs. Thompson.
Today I finished a book and sat there with tears rolling down my cheeks. I was not sad about the ending because it was happy but I missed the people in the story and wanted it to be never ending but of course that is impossible. Can you imagine a book that goes on forever?
I want to share how reading has helped me grow up and grow old. I pray that I will always be able to have eyes that see, ears that hear what the words are saying and a mouth to tell the story. Yes, I said hear the words because good writing has a voice loud and clear.
So, my precious child, you are learning yet another important thing about your grandmother. I think you and I have had fun reading in bed when we visit and falling asleep with a story in our hearts. Now that is a great lullaby.
Love you dearest one,
MAMIE