Love to read

I love reading. I love books. I love libraries. I love stories. I love authors. I love writing.

I think I developed a deep love for books growing up with a mom who loved to read and who loved gifting me books. When I was a little girl, I would always see my mom with a book in her hands, she was constantly reading, always lost in the world of an author’s words.

Maybe what I really loved was what books represented. Maybe they represented my mom. Even though I struggled at times with reading, learning in a different language and navigating those challenges, I still fell completely in love with books.

Today I’m going through my kids’ books. About six years ago, I got very sick, and it’s taken me nearly that long to fully climb back to where I am now, mentally and emotionally. My older kids were able to experience so much reading, my mom read to them, and books were a big part of their world. My younger kids, though, had a sick mom for a while, and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t draw. I couldn’t do a lot of things.

But I kept the books. In my heart, I always believed I would read them someday.

Now, as I’m minimizing and going through the book section of our home, I feel inspired, and maybe a little sad—knowing I didn’t get to read these books to my younger kids when they were little. But now I have the chance. And honestly, I don’t think I’ll be able to get rid of all of them.

I’d love to figure out a way to create a little library in our home, a space where my kids can fall in love with reading and books the way I did, and the way my older kids did.

What’s your favorite book of all time, and why?