It was Walter Farley's the Black Stallion that gave me my OZ moment, the moment when the book, page after page, became colorful and alive. When my imagination found a happy home run amok in different places with new people, horses, barns, smells, conflicts and solutions.
I was on a deserted island, taming the black, we swam and hunted together. I know this is true because I remember it vividly, like it actually happened, yesterday. After the last page, it was just me and the Black. I don't know what happened to Alex! I wrote my own imaginary story.
The Black began my life long love affair with books.
My daughter (11) is not considered an avid reader, her book choices are within her age group, she has difficulty with phonemic awareness and symbol imagery (me too) but something great just happened. She began reading the Fault in our Stars by John Green. I have a feeling this is her big one, the one that pulls her in, and turns her on to story, reading, life outside our small town. She wants more, she's hungry for the next page.
It's a deep heartfelt story, she's a sensitive child, she will be sobbing at the end of this one. The Fault is to her what Black Beauty and the Black Stallion were to me.
I am relaxed watching her reading journey, the story will do its work. Because the job of a good book is to engage the reader and nurture the love of reading.