thoughts on my grandmother

when I was four years old, i learned to read and write, thanks in no small part to my grandmother. she encouraged what would become a lifelong love of books and reading by spending hours patiently listening to me read, accompanying me to the library, and buying me books. one of my greatest memories was reading the entire little house on the prairie series with her during the summer that I was nine. we read, drew pictures of laura’s homestead, crocheted, and spent hours talking about life on the prairie and her own hard life on a farm in the texas panhandle. she was so proud of my accomplishment that she presented me with the set of books at the end of the summer -- those very same books sit on the shelves in my living room today, waiting to be read by my own children in a few years. like the hundreds of children who had the great fortune of being taught by my grandmother during her long career as an english teacher, i knew what it was to learn from someone who was always patient, never critical, and always excited about learning. but unlike those children who only had her in their lives for one year, i had that loving, enthusiastic support in my life for forty four years.