Multiple times a week, a thought goes through my head that I’ve never really written down before: “I love that my daughters read.” If you went through my photos, sprinkled throughout you’ll find random photos I take of my kids, fully absorbed in a book. Without exception, every one of those photos was taken by a dad who thought in his mind, “I’m so glad that they enjoy reading.”
From listening to Isaya read out loud at the top of her lungs to herself in a crowded subway car (so she can hear/correct/makeout what she’s reading) to Selah loving a story that she keeps asking for more quiet reading time at the end of the day, to Rehema, so absorbed in the world of fantasy, magic, and mythology that the entire world around her fades away (which makes for dangerous street crossings and panicked subway transfers… also frustrating attempts to get her attention!)… I love all of it. This post isn’t even a humble brag; it’s just a brag. And I guess I don’t feel so bad because no one reads this! But maybe one day my kids will grow up, and look through the archives and discover how proud I am of each of them.
I hope that they’ll continue to grow their love for reading, especially when screens offer much faster gratification; but I don’t think screens offer deeper gratification in the way that books train us to utilize our imaginations and touch more intimately upon our hopes and desires. There’s something good in the slowness of it I want them to cultivate and to be honest, there’s something in the slowness that I want to cultivate; I just want them to cultivate it earlier while they’re being formed so they don’t end up like me trying to grow a love for it later in life.