Growing up some of my fondest memories involved books in some form or
another. I remember when I was just a young girl going to the library and picking out
books. The library had a limit of twenty-five books, and I would always pick out a few
too many. I was always heartbroken when I would have to put some back. Nevertheless
even with the limit I would have so many books that I wouldn't be able to carry them all,
so my mother would help me. When we would reach the car I would carefully dump the
books into the back seat, They covered the back-seat and cascaded onto the floor. I just
remember that I couldn't wait to go home and read the books. When I got home I would
hurry off to my room and neatly stack them in to a pile, and then beg my mother to read
to me. As my mother would read to me she would follow the words with her finger and
ask me questions about the story, it was no wonder my Mom was a teacher. When she
would finish the book I would start a new stack of books, ones that I had read. The stack
would grow until there were no more books to read, only then would I would take
another trip to the library. Over the years I either out grew the picture books or I could no
longer find any that interested me, all I know is I soon found myself reading nonfiction
books. The nonfiction books like the ones that told about far off cultures and next it they
would have the pictures of the native people. It just amazed me that there were other
people in the world that's life's were so totally different. Reading growing up opened new
worlds, real and make believe to me that I could have never dreamt of. I don't believe that
I would be the person that I am today if it weren't for the library and the books that held
endless possibilities that it held inside.
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