Thursday, August 12, 2010

A tribute to my grandmother

My grandmother siphoned her love for literature into my brain when I was merely a baby. Equipped with an English PhD, she thought classes upon classes on numerous novels and spent hours pouring over books. She would always tell me stories, and even when her voice would become strained and tired, she carried on until I fell asleep. After teaching me how to read at an earlier than average age, writing was merely a footstep away. She always encouraged me to concoct stories of my own. Her excellent taste lead to book recommendations that never failed to dazzle me. Though I quickly moved on to pick books of my own, going to her house became a treat, since I'd always leave with an old novel or two cradled in my arms.

Without her, reading would be unknown to me; I would never experience the thrill of being immersed in a story, and the annoyance of being interrupted, wrenched out of a fictional world, the musings of another person's mind. I would never experience the joy of letting my words clutter the paper, or the satisfaction of expressing myself using nothing but these long strands of strange symbols. Thank you, grandma, for teaching me how to read. I hope I can one day do the same thing for another child.


  1. Aww Sonia! How sweet :)

    Plus, your grandma also makes superb potato salad. She must've wondered why I was at your house so much those few days hahaha

  2. you should post this on the smarty owl man!