Sound it out

I started reading at age 3. My Mom would walk across the street to the laundromat, S & P's, and I tagged along. The owners gave me an old hardback about a farm. It's the first book I remember reading. Hip hop to school, and it was my favorite subject. First grade brought SRAs (Science Research Associates, Inc.) color-coded reading system, and I thought I'd reached the pinnacle.

Thumbing through those colors brought me incredible joy. Read a great story. Answer a few questions. Back to the box of color and stories. My love for that little box cannot be overstated. My predilection for this box of many colors and my speed at moving through it brought attention.

The principal and teacher gave me a fourth-grade SRA, and I missed one. Talk ensued. An offer to skip second grade and move on to third. I accepted the offer. And off I went. Reading never failed me. I tested post-high school in elementary on all those standardized test. Reading GIVES. You absorb so much around you without realizing because you're constantly seeking to add to your knowledge. 

I picked up an Eric Carle First Phonics Box to give to a granddaughter for Christmas. I have two in Kindergarten right now. One in Pre-K. One is three. My little stair-steps. 😌

I decided to keep the books here for the girls to read and practice at the house when they come over. I broke them out, for the first time, last night. 

LeeLee sat on her mother's lap, we're all piled in the big bathroom for a reason I can't remember, and read, "Cats cats cats."

It was beautiful.

The best thing? She closed the cover and immediately reached for another book. 😊 And if she heard the phrase, "sound it out" once, she heard it ninety-two times. But she kept going. Read four books in all. 💖

I let her borrow the next five to take home and practice with mom and dad because she's going to read those to Mimi when she comes back in two weeks to celebrate Christmas up here. 

I remember the absolute joy in becoming a reader. The delight in seeing stories come to life.

But watching a reader become?

My heart will never be the same. Nor will hers.

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