A couple of weeks ago I posted on Facebook that my 96-year old mother continued to thrive. Responses by the dozens flooded back. All remembered her kindness, cheer and encouragement. The most remarkable feedback came from her 1954 fourth-grade students. 1954! Whoa Nelly!
Those 1954 students especially remembered her reading The Black Stallion each day after lunch. Mother read to Cornel and me just before tucking us in at bedtime. Our uncles read to us. I especially remember Treasure Island, Kidnapped and the Jungle Book.
When Vicki was recovering from back surgery our daughter, Wende (a superb Audio Books-type reader) entertained us with Cheaper By the Dozen.
On a frigid winter night I read to Vicki. Our favorites: Anne of Green Gables and Peter Pan. Unlike Peter we have become, ugh, adults and still call children books our favorites.
Reading aloud fills our hearts with tender mercies, lasting love and wisdom from bygone days.
As I look back to long-ago days I recall with fondness and respect teachers and coaches whose guidance has never departed. We may never know those whom we may influence on paths we walk each day.