I babysat last night for Alexander and Cayla. We sent their parents out for dinner and settled in to watch Inside Out, which I have to say, was a wonderful movie. But that's a post for another day.
After Cayla went off to bed, Alex and I considered what to do. We had a lengthy discussion about Mount Vesuvius and the city of Pompeii. He read about it in school. I showed him pictures of the site and he was fascinated, as I knew he would be. No surprises there. We decided against a game of Stratego, and I suggested we read a book.
He's seven, and is reading beautifully. He reads at night, and sometimes my son videos him practicing this new skill with his school books. He sends them in a message and we delight in watching him challenge himself with each new word. So, my thoughtful little guy disappeared to his room for a while, and I was afraid he got distracted. He came back, pouncing on the couch, holding the very first Captain No Beard, his face had a sweet smile. He knew I wasn't expecting one of my own books. That made my eyes water more than the movie, and I thought it couldn't get much better than that moment.
You see, I have always read those books to him. This was a new experience. I have only heard him read books he is given for schoolwork, or books from the library.
Well, Alexander began reading. He stumbled a bit on the harder words, but he read Captain No Beard from the beginning to end. It was a novel experience, having him read it to me, watching his face light up with laughter at the captain and crew's antics.
I wrote that particular book for him. Alexander pulled me out from the doldrums when I lost my mother. He made me think about and then reinvent my life, so I could feel part of it again. Listening to him read my words, made me relive writing those same words. Watching him smile and giggle made me realize why I did it.
Carole P. Roman