Bedtime Stories

            “It’s bedtime” was a dreaded phrase when I was little. I felt like there was still so much that I could do each night, so many dolls to play with, so many pages to color if I just stayed up a little later. I would protest and beg, make puppy dog eyes, and sometimes even cry. Eventually, though, I would put on my fuzzy footsy pajamas, gather up all my stuffed animals, and climb under my light yellow comforter. Then, with a rush of happiness, I would remember that before bedtime, it was story time.

            My mom or dad (or sometimes both) would sit on the edge of my bed and read me stories like no one else could. Some nights, my brother and sister would listen in, and other nights they would have their own separate story time. My story time started with Pat the Bunny, Corduroy, If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, and Guess How Much I Love You. Then, it moved into Blueberries for Sal, One Morning in Maine, Madeline, Angelina Ballerina, Lollopy, Olivia, Stella Star of the Sea, and a book full of poems, my Dad’s favorites to read being The Owl and the Pussycat and The Road Not Taken. Then, with Kindergarten and first grade and my own newfound ability to read somewhat independently, I began to stumble through short chapter books with my mom: Junie B. Jones, Little House on the Prairie, Charlotte’s Web, The Cricket In Times Square, Stuart Little, From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, and later: Anne of Green Gables, Little Women, and Harriet the Spy. With every book my parents or I read, I couldn’t wait to turn the pages, to see what was hiding in the words of the next chapter. I couldn’t wait to open a world held between two solid covers, a world where characters laughed and cried, lived and loved, lost and hated, spied, travelled, danced, sang. One that could be opened and closed and opened again, that would still be there no matter how much time passed. A world that could be happy or sad or both at one time and still make me drift off to sleep feeling warm and loved. As William Nicholson once said, “We read to know that we are not alone.”

            I have always loved reading and I always will, and I wish and hope that every kid could experience the amazing power and joy of bedtime stories!