My Mother Read To Me

Mrs. Leopoldine Masari with Her daughters at the Artist’s Studio
Hans Tichy, 1896

“I learned from the age of two or three that any room in our house, at any time of day was there to read in, or to be read to. My mother read to me. 

She’d read to me in the big bedroom in the mornings, when we were in her rocker together, which ticked in rhythm as we rocked, as though we had a cricket accompanying the story.  She’d read to me in the dining room on winter afternoons in front of the coal fire, with our cuckoo clock ending the story with “Cuckoo” and at night when I’d got in my own bed. 

I must have given her no peace.  Sometimes she read to me in the kitchen while she sat churning, and the churning sobbed along with any story.”         ~ Eudora Welty in One Writer’s Beginnings


3 thoughts on “My Mother Read To Me

  1. I can’t say that either of my parents read to me all that much, except my dad read us Dickens’ A Christmas Carol one year, which bored us to tears! But books were always there. All 3 of us kids still read like crazy, all the time. One time about 6 or so years ago, my dad had to go in for emergency heart surgery. Being “unprepared,” he actually resorted to reading one of my stepmother’s romance novels!  We all laughed so hard at that one (he is a “serious” reader). You will probably never find any of us kids without a book in our cars–just in case. And there’s always a Reader’s Digest to be found at my place–just in case.

  2. Beautiful illustration!
    There is no question that reading aloud is beneficial for both the reader and the listener.  I wish we did it more, I think….
    Like Limbolady, we didnt read aloud growing up, but my parents produced six readers; and DH and I have produced four.  Aside from the obvious skills one learns from reading aloud or being read to, I like the one mentioned over in Cindy’s post about teaching children to sit still.  Seems as if this is a lost skill these days, especially if you regard the number of people who cannot sit through a worship service, even a short one.

  3. It has also been said that even to see one’s parent read, forms that love in them.  I remember asking my dad what his favorite book was. He said “David Copperfield” by Dickens. I read it just because he loved it. I loved it and became a Dickens addict, relishing the weaving of each character all the way through the book. I have one ready for my down time that is coming this week. I read to my kids from the time they were six weeks on. They read to read. Thanks again for the sweet moment in my day. Love and blessings, m in sc

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