That was the first book I’d ever had read to me. I was in the third grade and every Thursday afternoon Mrs. Dale’s class (my class) went over to Mrs. Wesson’s classroom for story hour.
My parents never read to me - no one read to me when I was a child. I learned to read when I was 3 and read to myself - Sesame Street was a lot more educational than one may have thought. I only had a few books at home, many of which I’d read 5 or more times. I read anything and everything that had words on it - literally.
I believe that’s why I always liked story hour. New stories and it was just very nice to hear the words spoken out loud. Then, after one book was finished, I’d ask her if I could borrow it for a few days and she always said yes. For a few days I could read that book and imagine I was one of the characters and what life would be like. I guess I still do that sometimes.
Although it took me nearly 20 years, I finally got my own copy of it. I was in a second hand book store donating some of my more weathered titles and paring down my library when I caught a glimpse of it from the corner of my eye.
Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell in pristine condition - almost as if it had never been read. The memories of third grade story hour came flooding back and I remembered why I loved to read so much - how could I resist buying it?
Somehow I’ve managed to block out so many memories of my childhood, it was just refreshing to step back in time for a moment and recapture something so delicate and wonderful from it.
This theme has already been