Maylie is my little bookworm. She loves to pull all of the books off our shelf and read and read and read. She is a girl after my own heart.
And though I am so far from the perfect mother, there is one tradition that I cherish--one thing that I do well--and that is read to my children.
Back when I had postpartum depression shortly after Maylie was born, I felt so completely overwhelmed. I felt, for some reason, that I was the worst mother in existence. I thought it was hopeless and that no matter how hard I tried, I would always fall miserably short of all the mothers around me. It was a despondent feeling and a time to which I never wish to return.
But there is one good thing that came out of that time: Daily Story Time.
I remember talking to my mom day after day as she counseled me through this rough time. And one particular conversation stands out in my mind as life-changing. She told me that I don't need to do everything or be everything to my children. I don't need to plan elaborate lesson plans or fancy homemade games or hours of one-on-one playtimes. She told me that one of the most important things I could do was to read to them for 20 minutes a day. This, she said, more than any other educational activity I could plan, would most help them in their lives.
I thought long and hard about the simplicity of her suggestion. And I had such a slight glimmer of hope arise in my heart. I knew, in my depressed and down-trodden state, that I would never be able to do even a fraction of what I wanted as a mother. But I also knew that I COULD do this. I could read to my children. I already had been reading to them pretty consistently but after this conversation, story time took on an added layer of meaning. It wasn't something I had to do. It was something I wanted to do. And it was heartwarming and quieting and calming. And I truly believe that story time became a life-saver to me during this most difficult period of my life.
To this day, if I pick up a book and begin to read, my children will gather around me and settle down and quiet themselves. They will sit like this for as long as I read. And I am grateful.
I am grateful for their love of books. I am grateful that after our half an hour story time (which always happens every day right after lunch), Maylie takes a stack of books to bed with her for her nap and reads them aloud until she falls asleep.
I am grateful for every night that we get to bed early enough that the children can have 20 minutes of "Quiet Time" to read by the light of their lamps all curled up snug in their beds.
Truly, I am grateful for books. And I am grateful to my own mother for the thousands of story times she gave to us. She passed on to me such a treasured legacy that I am privileged now to pass on to my own little children.
