We all have that memory we hold dear to us, wrapping us back to a piece
of literature in one way or another. A time we wish to grasp again and never
let go of. Some we may not remember as vividly as we would like to, but if we
think hard enough and care deep enough, we begin to reminisce those moments
that occurred so long ago.
My personal memory involving a piece of literature happened when I was so
small it’s hard to believe I even remember it. But it is one I hold so close to
my heart I can see it clearly, as if it was yesterday. Learning to read forever
impacted my life, which may be why I care so deeply for it.
It was my favorite season, my favorite time of day, and favorite story.
What could be better? Nothing. It was Wednesday, which meant mom would be
reading Biscuit that night. I loved hearing her read Biscuit. It
was my absolute favorite story and I loved the pictures of the cute, yellow
puppy. Biscuit was the name of the puppy, who did not want to go to sleep at
bed time.
As I did every night, I dried off from my bath and put on my pajamas,
things I appreciated being able to do on my own. Doing things on my own gave me
a sense of independence and maturity. After brushing my teeth I raced down the
hall to my cozy bed. I could not wait for story time. I could hear my brother,
Shay, in the living room watching Scooby-Doo on the TV. Shay
never did enjoy story time the way I did. Mom walked in the well-lit room and
took a seat next to me on my blue and white framed bed. She slowly reached for
the small children’s book on my night stand. I was giggly and anxious waiting
for the story to start like most four year olds would be. Mom opened the book
and as always began reading with her slow, soft, motherly voice. I cuddled up
next to her and stared at the pictures of the stubborn, yellow puppy.
Faster than I had hoped the book came to a devastating close and mom
kissed me on the head.
“You should go to bed too my little princess.” My mom smiled and stood
up.
“No. Biscuit doesn’t want to go to bed so I don’t want to either!” I
attempted to sound confident and assertive. But of course, my mom just smiled
like most moms would, and repeated her first statement.
“I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes. I need to get ready for
bed too. I’ll come back to say good night and turn out the light.” With that my
mom turned and disappeared down the dark hall.
I instantly snatched Biscuit off of the night stand where my mom
had left the book resting. I thought to myself, “If she wouldn’t read it to me,
I would just have to read it to myself.” There had been nights before where I
had picked up the children’s book to glance at all the pictures that I found so
adorable and mesmerizing. I opened the book and gazed at the introduction page.
Confidence was becoming instilled in my mind that I could read this book
without help. I looked around at the walls stained with my own handprints in
yellow and blue paint. The quiet sound of the leaves tapping my window from the
light breeze were not giving me comfort. I remember feeling a rush of nerves
surge through all of my small four year old body. The sound of the leaves gave
me a sense of urgency. I needed to read that book right at that moment. I knew
my mom would come back soon and I did not want her to catch me attempting…or
failing to read.
I peeled back the next page and looked at the first page. “How could I
not read this? I had practically memorized it!” I wondered to myself. So
without further debate and hesitation, I jumped into it. Before I thought to
caution myself into reading in my head I spat out the first few simple words
displayed on the page.
“Time for bed, Biscuit.”
Before I could continue, I was gleaming with joy. That was my first real
sentence out of a real book! My face beamed with shock and delight. I knew now
I could go on and read this book. I flipped the page and wasted no time looking
at the picture.
“Woof! Woof! Biscuit wants a hug.” My eyes widened.
“Woof! Woof! Biscuit wants a kiss.”
I let out a shriek of pure joy. I could not believe this was happening! I
did not want to be alone in this moment. I was actually doing it all by myself.
I needed to tell someone. I threw my book down and was ready to rip off my
purple flower-covered blanket when I caught sight of my mom leaning in the door
way. There was no possible way of hiding any of my excitement. I jumped up and
ran to her and hugged her. I leaned into her and smelt her fresh warm vanilla
skin of her arms wrapping around me.
“Mom! I was reading! Me! Can you believe it!? Just me. I can read now! It
was Biscuit!” I howled on not attempting to contain any part of the excitement.
My mom grinned and walked me back to my bed. I could easily tell she was
proud of me. Although, she did not seem surprised. Not the way I was.
Obviously, she had greatly been expecting and preparing for this moment
my whole life. As a mom she had a plan for me that I had always fallen right
into place with. Little did I know that this minuscular moment in my life would
actually change and shape my life altogether. Not only that, but it opened and
started a new chapter that I would be part of for as long as I live. As a young
child I had not the slightest clue that this journey would turn into something
unimaginable. All of the reading and writing I have ever done happened because
of that specific moment of my small self, picking Biscuit up off of the
night stand on that fall breezy night.
Today, my life continues on being filled with bright literature filled lessons.
Literature is something I have used and will continue to use throughout my
entire life. This story is one of my most valued childhood memories. Although,
my reading experience was a simple children’s book, it was something that had
the power to impact my personality.
Reading Biscuit aloud to myself for the very first time will
always be something that sticks with me wherever I go and helps me no matter
where I am. I believe that having this experience is what gave me the personal confidence
and encouragement I have today as a reader and writer.
Sharing this moment and time of my life with my mom definitely impacted
and shaped our relationship. We are where we are today because of the times
like this that she read to me or taught me how to read on my own. To this day,
we can both share a laugh about our memory of that first time I read Biscuit
without her assistance. Seeing her proud of me the way she was and encouraging
me the way she did helps me know that she will still do the same with any other
reading or writing or anything in life for that matter. I approach situations
inside and outside of literature differently because of that faultless night
with my mom so many years ago.