Last night I was searching for a particular book that I wanted to share with my college students in class today. I had been through every room and looked among every bookshelf and was now upstairs in the secret book room, searching through the piles of our children’s books that we have accumulated over the past 20 years together. Of course, I got lost in the experience…to be around that many good books and illustrations is like getting caught in a really wonderful rainstorm. The books were falling everywhere and I was happily caught in their flood.
And then, our youngest daughter (age 9) appeared in the little doorway and said, “Dad, listen to this!” She was holding a newly discovered book from her school library. A good friend had read this particular book only a few weeks before and they were talking about it that day, so she checked it out and brought it home to read. She was about 20 pages in when she came across a couple of pages that she wanted to read to me.
It was a wonderful passage that was very poetic and very solemn, and she read it as though she were auditioning for a Shakespeare play. Her eyes were alive with these words. Her voice was alive with these words. Her physical appearance was alive with these words. Something about them reverberated somewhere within her young heart.
I’m glad she read to me. What I heard, I needed to hear. But what I saw, I will never forget.