My Dad shared a sweet story with me today… in the Italian class he teaches, a student told him they’ve lent my book to a friend and each night the husband is reading it aloud to his wife. What a lovely thought! I felt really touched to hear this. (And in a curious twist, today happens to be “Read Aloud Day”.) I loved it as a child when one of my parents read aloud to me each night and I always begged for ‘another story’ rather than go to sleep.
The Enchanted Wood was a favourite read to me and then I read over and over myself. I still have this 1956 edition Mum’s father gave to her when she was eight. Mum then gave it to me at about the same age, but when I was older and moved out of home, I left the book with her, knowing how she treasured it. Then, just two months before she died, Mum gave me this book again, wrapped as a present on the night I graduated from my Masters degree, and I can’t tell you how precious it is to me, even if very marked and foxed and falling apart!
(If only my name inside in my grade 3, ‘running writing’ – yet to graduate from pencil to pen – was as elegant as my grandfather’s cursive script. Mine’s really only got worse, not better!)
Happy reading aloud!