A couple days ago I sat sprawled across the living room floor, reunited with my 9-year-old sister.
Since I left she progressed from sounding-out-words to reading chapter books.
‘I want to hear you read!’ I demanded of her.
A pile of holiday books lay on the floor.
No competition. I picked an eternal favorite, How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss.
It was even better than I remembered (love those rhymes!), and so wise.
“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”