A crying shame

A crying shame, I said to myself. It was the first thing that came to my mind that I thought my mother would say if she was with me. I say my mother because she taught me that reading is a precious gift.

It was early this morning when I went to the doctor’s office that I witnessed something that compelled me to write this letter so that maybe all parents, grandparents, sisters and brothers could reflect on how important you are in the lives of the smallest members of your family.

I sat waiting in the front office area for my appointment when I noticed a little girl, perhaps six or seven years old, shuffling through the available children’s books to read that the doctor had purchased for his patients. This little girl, with long silky hair and a smile that could send off a thousand ships, found a book that, once opened, was nearly half her size. Her eyes opened wide and just glistened as she took a deep breadth and gasped when she turned the first page. As she exhaled, she immediately said out loud with great interest, never taking her eyes off of the pages, and as if almost to herself, “I’m going to need someone to help me with this book.”

Now for me, at that moment, I was quite surprised, first because her voice and words were so articulate for such a small child I knew certainly this child must be gifted, and secondly because she was so excited, so entranced by this book. The little girl was sitting there next to what seemed to be her oldest sister who was about 20 years old and across from what seemed to be another sister about 12 or 13 years old, and finally on the other side sat what may have been grandma.

At this time, holding the book and a big smile, the little girl looked up and could see her older sister was busy playing with not one but two cell phones and didn’t want to be bothered. She glanced over to her other sister who also was playing with her own phone. Then she got up and went over to grandma and quietly and politely asked, “Can you help me with this book?” Grandma sat there staring into the daily newspaper discount flyer for specials and never even flinched. The little girl turned slowly away and was surely disappointed as she undoubtedly chose grandma out of everyone, thinking surely grandma would help her, only to be turned away by being ignored.

She then hesitantly approached her next to oldest sister and asked the same, quietly and politely as if not to bother her from playing with her phone. Her sister didn’t say anything at all; she just merely pointed her finger toward her older sister as if to say tell her to help you.

I sat there and watched and felt horrible. She wanted so much for someone to help her. I could see the disappointment in her face. I felt like saying to her, “Come here child, I will help you with that book.”

She then went back to sit next to where she started her quest, near her oldest sister, opening the book and not asking her sister but looking at her with eyes that seem to be saying, “Please, I’m sorry, please can you help me.” The older sister never really spoke, she just seemed to quickly look at the page and point out the answer, turn the page and slide the book back into the child’s hands. You see, this book was an interactive problem-solving book, you had to find the clue on the page full of pictures. The little girl then took the book and settled back into the seat and resolved to try and do this by herself. She even began to talk herself through it. I could hear her saying, “No, it isn’t there, oh look at that, its an elephant.” It soon became apparent, though, that she was outmatched without the subtle help of an older family member. The glow slowly faded from her eyes and her smile paled, as she began flipping through the pages to the end of the book, not really trying and then closing its cover. Hence closing the door on a thousand missed opportunities for imagination and learning to read. I was so moved I stepped outside to wipe a tear from my eye, all the time I could see the tears that the little girl had on the inside. It was a crying shame.

So it is with this letter to the editor that I ask all those who read this and who have precious young children in your family, that they need you, they want you to play an interactive part in their lives, each and everyday. Reading is truly a most precious way to do this. So sometimes just stop what you’re doing and say, “Hey, come here little one, let’s read this book.” They will love you more than anything in the whole world for it. And you will feel it, it your heart, and in your head.

Craig H. Garrison
As Lito