A Dwellling of Words

"Bring them to school and read them to us, too!"

I have a dwelling of words that is home sweet home and it is called My Book House. My Book House is a set of books that my grandmother bought from a traveling salesman when she was pregnant with my mother. Her husband, my grandfather, was a Naval Officer and was out to sea. When my mother was born, my grandmother started reading those books aloud. And she read those books to my mother even after she could read them on her own. And my mother read them to me even when I could read them on my own.

When we were evacuated from Cairo in the June Six Day War in 1967 with the rest of the American Embassy, two of the books were left behind. And we never got them back.

When I met Ben (who is now my husband), he took me to meet his parents. I couldn't resist looking at the bookshelves (I never can), and there they were... the complete set. My Book House. No wonder we could finish each others sentences.

I read My Book House to my children even after they could read them on their own.

I told my third graders this story and I told them how now I read them to my granddaughters, too.

"Bring them to school and read them to us, too!"

And today I did. I read them all about the 'ring of luck' and the 'ring of wisdom.' I invited them into My Book House. And they liked it there.