Grandma Created A Monster
By Vern Davidson
It must have been very early, about the age of 5, when I first remember my
Grandmother encouraging me to get interested in reading. Not just reading as a chore or
part of my schoolwork, but as a part of life that can be enjoyed.
My Grandmother had a very limited education experience; she only completed the sixth grade in her formal studies. She could read very simple texts, but not really to the point where the information flowed freely for her so that she could fully enjoy the reading experience. I think that was probably the only regret that my Grandmother ever had in life. I believe that it was her own personal experience that made her want reading to mean something more to me; something that could open up my imagination to a larger world. It did.
We were a small family with very limited income, so there wasn’t a lot of money to be spent on non-essentials. The essentials category was a basic, short list which included food, clothing and our home. My Grandmother saw my reading as one more definite essential. My grandmother’s primary source of income was the Social Security check that she received after my Grandfather passed away. Raising my older brother and I on her own, she supplemented her income by babysitting. I can remember that she would make around $12 a week for each of the 5 children she babysat throughout the week and on weekends.
I can remember that she kept a coffee can with my name on it hidden away in the kitchen cabinet. When we would go grocery shopping or pay a bill, Grandma would always collect the leftover change and put it into the can. This money was for my education and adventures in reading.
We always did our shopping at the Safeway grocery store in Kennett, Missouri where I grew up. I remember that during late winter one year, they offered a Sesame Street book series. These were hardcover, thin-volume books meant to be part of a set that introduced a letter and a number, one volume at a time. Each monthly new edition of the series was new opportunity to explore! There were side stories that introduced the letter and number of the month, followed by a feature story that somehow incorporated those into the storyline. I collected each and every one that year and read them until they were well-worn and full of character; having a dog-ear fold here, a smudge of dirt there, complete with the worn edges and binding common to all loved books.
Aside from my own enjoyment, one of my “chores” was to provide the pre-school children she babysat with some quiet-time reading entertainment. We had a screened in back porch that allowed warm sun, tempered by a light breeze, to filter in. My Grandmother would sit in her rocker and I was the narrator inviting my audience to imagine what I saw and felt as we travelled the pages together.
Once I got into the 2nd Grade, I was introduced to the annual and occasionally semi-annual book sale from Weekly Reader, offered through Scholastic. These sales were the highlight of my school year. The sale booklet and order forms were passed out and we went to work choosing the items we were going to order. I can remember that there were non-book items, such as pencils, folders, rulers, stickers and all sorts of assorted eye candy. These items fit my category of “non-essentials”. Knowing how hard my Grandmother scraped and saved to make sure I had enough money to purchase three books per sale, I wanted to make that money count. Also, I had an audience to share my literary world with and it was my aim to enchant them with the best.
It was Scholastic and the support of my Grandmother that introduced me to the books that stuck with me for the rest of my life. Books like “The Lemonade Trick”, “The Mouse and the Motorcycle”, “The Cricket in Times Square”, “Ramona”, “James and the Giant Peach” and so many others opened up my imagination to a world that was limited only by my imagination and open to explore. These books taught me that reading was way better than television because my mind could vividly recreate the images from the story and bring them to life in a way that no picture tube could ever reproduce. I could almost smell the salty-sweet mix of the sea spray-laced air and flavor of a fresh-cut giant peach, as James navigated the open seas and met the strange and wonderful creatures that shared his biodegradable vessel. I could smell the popcorn, hotdogs, nachos, and exhaust fumes experienced by a small cricket hidden in his tiny patch of turf in Times Square. I could imagine the point of view of a mouse and roar of a tiny engine as he raced through his miniature world on his miniature motorcycle. These stimulations of the senses were what I wanted my audience to see, hear, smell and feel. These books sparked my imagination and made me hungry to read more. I wanted to read everything I could because each book was a new adventure and learning experience. Reading was my sustenance for my imagination and my mind. I was always on the hunt for new brain-food as a child; the craving remains with me today.
There were many people during my school years that encouraged and inspired me to read: teachers, friends and visitors to our school who spoke to us. I remember Mrs. McKeel, my third grade teacher. She encouraged me to submit my book, which I’d written and illustrated for a class project, to the Delta Fair writing competition. I took a blue ribbon and still have my first book. I remember meeting Seymore Simon on a school trip to the SEMO library. With Grandma’s hard-earned money, I bought his book on making paper airplanes and had it autographed. I remember my then-perceived “very strange” buddy, Blake, who introduced me to Orson Wells and science fiction.
Above all of those people who remain in memory, I remember Grandma as my foremost literary sponsor. She gave me the greatest gift a child can receive. I am a hungry reader, always on the hunt; this beast must be fed.
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