I was about to take a sip of tea recently when a young woman passing by stopped at my table. “Mmmmm,” she murmured as the tea’s intriguing fragrance wafted from the steaming liquid. “What is that?”
“Chamomile tea,” I answered. Seeing her puzzled expression, I added, “Remember, it’s what Peter Rabbit was given to drink after his difficult experience in McGregor’s garden.”
“Peter Rabbit?” the young woman responded. It was becoming clear that she had never heard of the well-known children’s tale by Beatrix Potter.
“Didn’t your mother read stories to you?” I asked gently. “No,” was the unfortunate answer. I felt sorry for the young woman, and thought of the lines from Strickland Gillian’s poem: “Richer than I you’ll never be; I had a Mother who read to me.”
Those who have been read to as children, as well as those who read as children or as adults are indeed rich beyond measure. Not rich in dollars, perhaps, but rich in stories, in words, in ideas, in adventures and experiences of people and places beyond themselves.
From classic children’s literature they know of “Heidi,” the little Swiss girl; from U.S. history they know of John and Abigail Adams, an early “power couple.” They know “The Little Prince” with his wise and wonderful insights into human nature; they know Ali Baba, Thomas Edison, Alexander Graham Bell, and the rhythmic poetry of Robert Louis Stevenson.
They know faraway places and strange sounding words. They are, in fact, given a key to the exit of what in later in life can all too often become a prison of self.
Being read to at an early age most often leads to becoming an adult reader and further enrichment of the inner self.
In our era of existential attitudes and “new is better,” conditioning a sense of what has become before is essential, yet that conditioning is not always presented in places of learning or in the media.
Great classics are always in style. James Hilton’s “Lost Horizon,” Rudyard Kipling’s “Kim,” Pearl Buck’s “The Good Earth,” Thornton Wilder’s “The Bridge of San Luis Rey,” give reading pleasure as well as insight to many of the foundations of the political/social issues of our own time.
“Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam,” the Greek myths, “The Prophet,” by Kahlil Gibran are part of our cultural currency. To not at least know of them is to risk being left out of many interesting conversations or experiences.
A woman travelling in Europe has related how embarrassed she was when, on many walls of various museums; she saw depictions of “Perseus Holding the Head of Medusa.” She had no idea who “those people” were!
When she returned home she picked up a book on the Greek myths. Better late than never.
In addition to reading to children, seeing their parents read is a wonderful thing for children: Most likely they will grow up to be readers themselves.
It’s quite noticeable that many people who say they no longer read newspapers but get their news from the Internet are missing a lot. I, for one, find myself sending newspaper clippings to these people about subjects they enjoy and would otherwise miss. The clippings are always well received.
This Mother’s Day let’s offer a toast to mothers who read to their children; and congratulations to the children who will always be richer because of it.
Chamomile tea, anyone?
Marie Martin lives in Magnolia.
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