Why read to kids?

Guest post by Ms. Susan Pirsch, our counselor, who absolutely loves reading.

My first memory of sadness caused by something other than what one of my six older siblings did to me was listening to my mom read:

My dear, do you know how, a long time ago,
Two poor little children, whose names I don’t know,
Were stolen away on a bright summer day
And lost in the woods, I’ve heard people say.

And when it was night, how sad was their plight.
The sun, it went down, and the moon gave no light.
They sobbed and they sighed, together they cried,
‘Til the poor little things, they lay down and died.

And when they were dead, the robin so red
Brought strawberry leaves and over them spread,
And all the day long, he sang them this song:
“Poor babes in the wood, poor babes in the wood.*

My mom and I later laughed about how it tortured me and we wondered what possessed her to tell that story to a three-or four-year-old kid but when I look back, I know how it added to who I am. 

Right there, on her lap, holding one of the red encyclopedias that held this favorite story of mine, I became aware that others suffer, too.  In that way, I woke up a bit and began feeling a little bit more for others.

*The Babes in the Wood - English Children's Songs - England

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