It was late afternoon, when the sun came in low through the windows. The shadows of trees swaying in the wind danced across the living room floor. Soft sunlight warmed the room, whispering that dinner wouldn’t be long.
I heard the back door open and shut, the latch clicking. A triangularly folded newspaper flew over the back of the couch, landing perfectly at my feet.
The arrival of the newspaper was the sign that my dad was home from work. When I was two years old, Dad was the circulation manager for the Daily Oklahoman, which at that time was an afternoon paper. His job included making sure all the paperboys had picked up their papers, delivered them to their subscribers, and resolved any customer calls about missed deliveries.
The kerplunk of the newspaper wasn’t like clockwork. There was always a sense of anticipation.
I have always loved newspapers—the way they were folded and thrown, their distinctive smell, even the ink that rubbed off on my fingers. Having the newspaper land at my feet was always a happy moment, accompanied by the voices of my parents drifting from the kitchen while the aromas of dinner floated into the living room.
The arrival of the newspaper created a perfect moment.
In 1957, the Daily Oklahoman was probably only thirty small pages, nothing like the large newspapers we think of today. It was simple for me to undo the fold.
Getting to the comics was my objective. I’d find the page, usually the centerfold, spread the paper on the floor, smooth out the wrinkles, and kneel there pondering the stories hidden in the drawings.
I knew words were involved in those pictures, and I tried to figure out what was happening in each scene.
Somehow, I knew that someday I would be able to read anything I wanted. And more than that, I would write—for newspapers.
Today, when I sit down to write, for an instant I am that toddler again, sitting in an unmatched moment of home, love, and evening light, confident that the words will be there—both to read and to write.
My delight in this ability to read and write has never waned. It is a gift I wish to share with all children, so that they, too, might discover the pleasure of writing their thoughts and reading the thoughts of others.
When I think about the future, I know I want to help others love reading and writing as much as I do.
Join me for a complimentary workshop…
