My Bookhouse

Reading is one of my first memories. I vividly recall lying on the floor of my grandfather's library and pulling

an old black bound book off the shelf. I am not sure which of the MY BOOKHOUSE books it was, but I know

it had a beautifully detailed painting on the front cover, and inside, it smelled of the 1920's and had that

slightly yellow color of well-worn paper. Even touching the very first few pages, I was already taken in by

the magic that awaited me. Stories for children, or forever children, from different cultures, and different eras

were my summer companions each year from the time I was eight. More than playing with the requisite dolls

or even friends, the MY BOOKHOUSE compilations were never far away from me. Admittedly this was a time

long before technology became the way to instantly gratify the desire for entertainment, but I feel so

fortunate to have grown up during those years when a book would accompany me to the doctor's office or

on a road trip, instead of an iPad or smartphone.

And so my passion for reading has never waned. My children who did grow up with the phones and other

devices still were required to 'bring a book' when we left the house each day. I know this early fascination

with reading has been responsible for all of us in my family to be, not only lifelong learners but lovers of

lifelong learning.