A great joy of life

One of the great joys of my life, one that I will remember until my deathbed, is when my oldest son read me a complete sentence (unbidden, mind you) from the backseat after he and I were driving home from basketball yesterday. He picked up one of his 2-year-old brother's books and, ignoring the 2-year-old targeted stuff, read a complete sentence from the author's notes. Though I did help him sound out one of the bigger words, he did make it through the seven of the other words with little or no difficulty. They were words he either knew by sight or was able to sound out.

To me this was the first time I could hear in his voice that he was really getting what reading was. It wasn't his teacher or his parents forcing him to read; it was his choice and he pretty much did it on his own. I am excited by this because I know it won't be long before he loses time in some of the best books that are meant for his age and I also know that being a good reader will help him for the rest of his life. (I also know that this should help create some "quiet time" in his room where he won't get into any trouble.)

Being able to read is taken for granted, unless you cannot read. Then it's clear how hard this world can be if you can't break the "code." I am happy my son is getting it and that I expect he will get the same joy from reading that I have gotten my entire life. I look forward to sharing some of my favorite books with him - in about 10-15 years.