How I Fell in Love with Reading
George Herbert and His Mother by Charles West Cope (1811-1890)
Learning and consequently growing a yearning to read has been one of the most, if not the most impactful moments of my life. It has aided me in innumerable situations, from my own work to getting along with others. Even though books may have at times taken me through the trenches of people’s lives, and the sorrow & suffering that resides there, I have found great joy in reading, and lasting peace with the wisdom that I had the luck to come across.
I am forever indebted to my mother for having the patience to instill a love of reading in me across three languages. I remember bits and pieces of hating the procedure of sitting down and learning to read English, but she understood the need and endured what must have been a slow and torturous process. For it is most children’s natural inclination to choose the easy way out and not to have to suffer hardship, for whatever the cause. But I suppose that a parent’s responsibility is to push and support their children past these comfort zones. It’s a responsibility not to be taken lightly, and if ignored will be payed for dearly. The consequences of choosing to sit your child in front of a T.V. set for hours on end or letting them dig their nose into a phone is already being felt now, past many people’s childhoods. However, to have the discipline not to choose the easy way out and neglect a child’s mental development is hard, and hard to do on a consistent basis with conflicting schedules.
Another reason I fell in love with reading was because I saw my sister enjoying it. Being 6 years older than me she got hold of books sooner and would quickly read through them one after another. Looking up to her I couldn’t help but want to know what happened in those same stories. I have no doubt that that process helped develop her quick wit, excellent communication skills, and persuasive writing.
My earliest memories of books include Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson, and Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe. They are truly fond memories and remind me of the many nights where my parents had to plead with me to put the books down and go to sleep. But what are dreams, compared to the stories I had the chance to live in?
Soon thereafter I was given predominantly non-fiction books, mostly histories. Many came from my public school’s Scholastics system; where I was able to learn more about people from antiquity, about their different ways of living, and how their wars were fought. Over many summers I would walk with my mom over to the local Toronto Public Library and participate in their summer book club for children. I would receive a themed poster and then fill up it’s gaps with stickers I received by reporting on each book I read. It was one of the greatest experiences I had as a boy and shared with my mother.
That’s the beautiful thing about reading, and it’s a story that many other bookworms share. Many great things in my life would not have happened if I didn’t read. That’s what I love about it, if you do it only good things will come from it, but if you don’t you may just lose out on an amazing opportunity.
If you have always read from a young age, then you already understand where I’m coming from. If you read when you were young and lost the habit as school stretched farther and farther away in your rear-view mirror, then pick up a book again, and I promise you you’ll enjoy it more than when you were forced to read it in English class. If reading never attracted your interest then I’ll ask you to try it out, to give it a chance. By reading these stories and finding out more about the world, you’ll soon realize that you’re also finding out more about yourself in the process.
Fall in love with reading, and that love will never fade.
Notes:
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