…and I fell in love with books.
Gram, my mother’s mother, loved to read. She committed poem upon poem to memory, often reciting those poems to me as I sat on her lap. Oh, and she we do so much more than recite each poem. Gram would live the poem, expressing each word with the proper amount of emotion, the perfect amount of restraint. Gram’s kitchen became my first library and she was my greatest librarian. Here’s a portion of one of Gram’s favorite poems, John Greenleaf Whittier’s Snow-Bound (and yes, she knew the whole poem).
More often than not, Gram would read to me in her kitchen. The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air and I always was given a cookie with my poem, sometime two (or three). Best of all, I knew Gram loved me, loved me lost. It’s no wonder why I fell in love with books, with words, with poetry.
- THE poem on the door (larszeekaf.com)