The year was 1976.
I sat on a bench in the reading corner of Mrs. Warren’s second grade classroom. You know what I’m talking about when I say reading corner – worn carpet squares on the floor with scattered pillows for coziness; painted book shelves loaded with colorful Scholastic Book selections, brightly appropriate for budding readers. Wearing my black and red plaid dress and dark-rimmed, Coke-bottle glasses that enabled my weak right eye to keep up with my left, I swung my feet back and forth as I found myself absorbed in a book, and falling head over heels in love with reading. My freshly developed reading skills had whisked me away into a new world called Chapter Books: amazing stories about giant peaches, pioneer girls, and a little pest named Ramona. Continue reading