Books are our friends. A small sign with this adage hung over the blackboard in my favorite class (College Prep English. High school) and saw me through the usual suspects (To Kill a Mockingbird, Catcher in the Rye) as well as extracurricular reading (Kristen Lavransdatter, Les Miserables). School was a safe haven of order and schedule and relatively easy success. As with so many other kids in my situation, books and school and for awhile religion, were a triumvirate of powerful support that carried me away from all the present troubles.

As we make ready for Talky and Tempest to enter Kindergarten next week, I’m reminded (over and over and over) that my love of reading, of school, of pencils and papers and lunchboxes and chalkboards is the religion I hope they carry with them as they grow older.

We visited their Kindergarten a few days ago and met the other kids and the teacher (for the second time). Seeing the little desks and sweet decorations and reading corner was like gazing into a secret hobby hole, where my first babies will be kept safe and learn to read and write. And gratitude and excitement don’t even begin to cover it…



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