At age 4, listening to books on my small record player, turning the pages as the ‘ding’ tells me to.
At age 6, converting my closet shelf into a library… with cards to check books out and books for all the readers who would visit. (me)
At age 8, carrying the Scholastic book order home with circles around the many books I would order.
At age 10, receiving a large box, wrapped in Christmas paper, filled with books from my godfather (a middle school English teacher)
At age 12, visiting the Bookmobile as it pulled into the schoolyard for us to borrow books since our town did not have a library.
At age 14, receiving books, in the mail, in large green fabric envelopes, from Augusta, with books inside to borrow from the state library.
The experiences of my childhood led to the love of books I have today.
The need to buy books every time I walk into the book store.
The need to place books in the hands of my sons’, and in their rooms, and on their shelves, and in the family room, and in every place they can go in our house.
The need to fill my classroom with books- old and new- and to share the love of these books with each group of students that comes through.
The need to pile two stacks of books on my nightstand… the books to read professionally and the books to read for pleasure.
And it’s all for… the love of books.