My First Memory of Reading

Hey Fellow Book Lovers,

In my last post I mentioned that I would discuss my first memory of reading sometime in the future. Well, it seems like today is that day. Usually, when it comes to someone’s first memory of reading, someone would tell you about the first book they remember reading or the one that made them come to love reading. I have never been able to do that. Truth be told, I have a hard time remembering what books I read last year, let alone twenty years ago. Instead, my first memory is of reading. It’s not of a specific book, but of an event that occurred many times over my childhood.

You see, my parents wanted their kids to be readers or, at the very least, appreciate books. Because of that, my dad would take us to the library that he had gone to when he was a child almost every week. We would spend hours looking through all the books. Then, after we had gotten all the books we wanted to check out (my dad never limited the number of books we could get), and if the weather was nice, my dad would take us to the weeping willow in front of the library. There, he would sit us down against the trunk and read as many books as he could to us. He would adopt a different voices for each character, drawing us deeper and deeper into the world the author had created.

Looking back, I truly don’t remember any one book that he read to us. Instead, I just remember what I felt during those times. I believe that all those occurrences of feeling content and happy while being read to by my dad and later when reading to him, helped to cement my deep love of books within me.

Now, it’s your turn. Comment below telling me about the first book or reading experience that started your love.


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