Day 2 of the Two Writing Teacher Slice of Life Challenge
"Matilda had just been published when I read it to your Mom," I said reflecting on that week, long ago, when Mono ravaged her Mom's body and I struggled to keep her Mom awake! My mind wandered to a memory of that read-aloud.
The little one continued talking about Matilda while my mind wandered to a long-ago after recess read aloud of Where the Caged Bird Sings in Ms. Huber's class. I caught glimpses of that read-aloud as I pushed into sixth grade for reading support; I had to borrow the book as I was as mesmerized as her students. '
I thought of that (last) read-aloud to my Dad, her great-grandfather, who was too weak to hold the newspaper (New York Times, Maureen Dowd). Then, as minds sometimes do, I thought about that last read-aloud to my brother, her great Uncle, who we knew would be gone before my article would be published (Including Matthew: Assessment Guided Instruction).
Those bittersweet read aloud memories were joined by a recent glimpse of a much loved newborn and her grandmother sharing a Madeline. I could imagine the power of that read-aloud to plant seeds of love that will intermingle with roots from long ago, "...lived twelve little girls, in two straight lines..."
I thought about Kate DiCamillo who said something about reading aloud being an act of love.
“Reading aloud ushers us into a third place, a safe room, it’s a room where everyone involved, reader and the listener, can put down their defenses and lower their guard."
