{the apple and the tree}

Do you ever have those moments with your kids, when you look at them, and it's just like looking at yourself?

Reading has long been a passion of mine. I have always been a voracious reader, and even since I was a small child, I could never get enough. I read everywhere--in the car, at the kitchen table while I was eating (I would even resort to the phone book or the cereal box in times of desperation), literally anywhere and anytime I could. My junior library card allowed me to check out 10 books at a time, and I would read those in a day or two. We usually went once a week, and I would end up either reading those books over again, or pulling some of my favorites off the shelf until I was able to go again. Even now, whenever we move to a new town, the first thing I check out is the library. Once it passes the test, I know I can live there!

I have always hoped that this love of books would pass on to my children, and while all of them have a keen interest, Emma is the most like me of all. She is fascinated by any and all books, and has to carry them around everywhere she goes. She doesn't limit herself though, and has even acquired a taste for magazines, catalogs, and the occasional cookbook.

Recently I had her with me at the library, and I happened to be in the Young Adult literature section looking for a specific book. Emma pulled down a book from the shelf to look at, and it happened to be a teen suspense novel--not a picture to be found. She insisted on checking it out, and I (not wanting to cause a scene with a 2 year old about checking out a teen book, and after quickly perusing the pages for any unseemly material) let her. Over the next few days it traveled with us to the grocery store, church, and anywhere we needed to be. She would open the book, look at the words on the page, then turn to the next page, seemingly soaking up every bit of it. We even found her early one morning in the rocking chair, sitting all by herself, turning page by page, and totally absorbed.

So, when she insists on reading my sewing magazine over her morning bowl of Cheerios, hefting 10 books to read in church, or is begging me to read "one more", I just smile--because I know just how she feels.