One of our greatest pleasures while spending time with our grandchildren, is reading to them or having them read to us. Bedtime stories are essential at the end of the day. It is a time of warmth and closeness sandwiched between fidgeting and giggling, and prayers. It is mandated not by us so much as it is by them.
Last night, when Rachel and Aaron were ready to hear their bedtime story, I decided to take things up a notch. In the past, I had always asked them to choose their favorite book for me to read. I have to admit that over time I had become somewhat lazy about this. Instead of challenging them with a new story, and facing the possibility of rejection, I would select from their group of favorite books – usually picture books, and robotically read them until the task was complete. I had also been reluctant to start a chapter book because of the lack of continuity to keep the story ball rolling. It may be several weeks or longer before we are able to resume reading to whichever group of grandchildren we had at the time.
Last night I decided that I would move up to a picture-less chapter book, and challenge them with painting their own pictures in their minds. We have quite a variety of chapter books on hand; from Mary Pope Osborne’s Magic Tree House books to Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief. My challenge would be to pick something that I hoped would appeal to both members of last night’s audience – Rachel, and her brother Aaron. They both love animals, so I decided to try The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Graham.
Because this would be a new reading experience for the three of us, I decided, perhaps presumptuously, that it would be a good idea to offer a preamble on how they would need to use their imaginations to make their own pictures in their minds.
“There are no pictures in this book,” I reminded them, “so you will have to make up your own pictures in your heads. So, let’s close our eyes and see if we can see a picture of a tree.”
“I can see a tree!” exclaimed Aaron.
“I can’t see the tree,” said Rachel. The wrinkles around her tightly squinched eyes told me she was trying really hard to see a tree.
“Okay,” I continued. “Think about what a tree looks like. It has a trunk, some limbs and lots of leaves. What color are the leaves?”
“My tree has green leaves!” said Aaron.
“I can’t see the tree,” said Rachel.
I needed to add some action. “What happens to the leaves?”
“They fall!” said Aaron.
“And what happens before they fall?”
“They change colors,” said Aaron.
“What colors?”
“Red. Orange. Yellow,” said Aaron.
“I can’t see the tree,” Rachel giggles.
“Okay. Let’s try to make a different picture.” Rachel dearly loves our old house on Presto Avenue, and we had been there earlier in the day, so I thought I would give that a try. “Can you see our old house on Presto?”
“Umm… I can’t see the house on Presto,” she said. Her eyes were still squinted, her glasses had slid down near the end of her nose, and she was sweetly smiling. She was not the least bit frustrated with me.
Aaron’s eyes were getting heavy. I decided to ditch the exercise in mind-picture-building and get on with the story.
“How about I start reading the story? And if you decide you don’t like it, or if you get sleepy and want me to stop, I’ll stop.”
“Okay!” they chimed.
And so I began. “The Mole had been working very hard -“
“Hold on! Hold on!” shouted Rachel. “I can see the house on Presto! And the tree in the front yard! And the red shutters on the front of the house!”
While fighting against my tightening vocal cords, I asked her if she wanted me to stop reading. “No!” was her response.
It was getting late. Aaron fell asleep after a few pages had been read, but Rachel would not allow me to stop until we had completed the first chapter. When we finished, Rachel recounted Mole, Water Rat, Toad and the Badger. Then she turned and quickly fell asleep.
I have a new story. It starts like this: “The Girl had been working very hard…”
Shelly E. Lash
October 8, 2017
Grampy Lash 