by Rick Bavera

Created on: February 21, 2009

On Rereading the Books of Childhood

I grew up in a family of readers. My mother would often read to and with us kids, and when she wasn't doing that, she was "modeling" an enjoyment of reading by doing it for herself. My grandparents, too, were readers and encouraged us to read and share with them what we were reading and learning from our reading. My father was in the Navy, so we moved around a lot compared to many of those around us. So books became reliable, dependable friends of sorts.

When we were reassigned to a new place, it became a time for me to find books about the place we were moving to, so that I knew a little bit about the place before we got there. So I learned ahead of time about places like Maryland, Mississippi, Pennsylvania and Portugal. And as I got older, I learned about the other places we had lived when I was younger, like Virginia, Rhode Island and California. This awakened an interest in reading about those places and others, so I could travel in my imagination even further than I did in real life.

I also had many books on my shelves that were "friends." Books by Dr. Seuss, and Maurice Sendak. As I got older, books by people like Keith Robertson, Isaac Asimov, CS Lewis and Madeleine L'Engle. Many of those books traveled with me and my family on our moves.

What I found reassuring (as I look back on it now) was the fact that even if I did not have a copy of a favorite book or author, I could go to the library and find a copy. I always had a friend who either traveled along with me, or was there waiting in the new town, there to help me during that time of adjustment by being something and someone familiar.

I now find that when I reread a favorite book or author from my childhood, it brings back many of those "outside the book" memories. It connects me to a time when I was eager to learn, ready for adventure, and connects me to the examples of reading shown by my mother and grandparents. It connects me to old friends between the covers of a book. Those friends are still there and waiting to renew the conversation of relationship, unchanged by time.

I do reread many of those books with far different eyes, now, than when I was a child, sometimes analyzing the story on how it could have been done a little better or differently. But then I let myself get swept away by the story, and just enjoy the time with my old, reliable friend, feeling safe and secure again with a friend who is always available.

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