When Mother Reads Aloud

You may have tangible wealth untold,

Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.

Richer than I you can never be –

I had a mother who read to me

-A Reading Mother by Strickland W. Gillilan

I agree with Henry Ward Beecher when he says, “A home without books is like a room without windows.  .  .  .  A library is not a luxury, but one of the necessities of life.”  Indeed, books enrich our lives.  They transport us to different times and places.  They allow us to experience life in another’s shoes.  They enlighten us with timeless truths and values.  Books are a necessity and so we collected books.  Our home is crowded with books:  books in every room, books stacked to make room for more, books beckoning to be read.    The living room holds the greatest treasure of books, at least one shelf for every wall, some shelves smaller than others but still filled with books.  As my children grew, we gathered in the living room to share adventures from the pages of our books.

I read aloud to my children.  Of course, we read picture books, but we also enjoyed chapter books – chapter by chapter, night after night.  One of the first chapter books we read together was Little House in the Big Woods.  We followed this book with the rest of the books in the series.  The Ingalls family had become part of our family.  We learned from Aslan along with the Pevensie children and we adventured with the Swallows and Amazons.  We traveled with missionaries and lived with historical figures.  We read stories that were fun and made us laugh and we read stories that were serious and made us think.  Some stories stretched our imaginations and some added to our education.      

Through our books we met people and traveled the world.  We sailed over oceans and flew through clouds.  We adventured with new friends and discovered fresh truths.  But most of all I hope that my children were touched through our reading:  touched to accomplish brave and noble deeds, touched to be strong and true to their convictions, touched to make a positive difference in the world.  I hope that the times we read aloud left them richer than before.

As I look around the room and ponder the books on the shelves, memories flood my mind.  I remember the stories that we read together and I long for more.  When I began writing this post, I thought that I would list people we met along the way and places we went.  I thought that I would share more titles and lessons learned.  But too many gather in my mind.  Which are the best?  Some of my children would say one and others would counter with another.  Different books touched their hearts and lives in different ways. 

I am thankful for the days I had to read aloud to my children.  I am thankful for the books we read together.  I can still see my children gathered together for a story.  Sometimes they came with handiwork or coloring books and sometimes they just listened.  I remember the day when my son sauntered through the room toward another activity.  He lingered by the doorway.  He had decided that he was too old for our read aloud times.  Even so, the written words and adventure captured and held him.  No one is too old for a good story to be read aloud.  Stories add to life.  So, choose a book, gather the children around, and enjoy an adventure together.