Yesterday I was reading a book about picking fruits and vegetables and eating them. When we got to the page about the blueberry bush, Aria reached out, plucked a blueberry from the tree and popped it in her mouth. In the evening, she did the same thing with an apple while daddy was reading.
These moments with the blueberries and apple seems somehow different. There was no fruit or bush, just a book. Somehow the page came alive in her imagination.
Creating a world all my own was the best part of childhood. I find myself oh so very eager to see the world Aria creates, the world she is only just beginning to see.
Books. That’s a big part of this. She loves them more than anything. We read a set morning noon and night. She seems to understand them more and more each time we read, each one planting the first seeds of imagination.
I never was a big reader or lover of books, but I’m starting to understand the love all these reading teachers in my schools have for reading. With each read and reread, the world gets bigger and more interesting. What a gift it is to see it from the start with my own daughter.