My Earliest Memory About Books

Growing up in my early childhood, most of my time and energy was spent running around with no shoes on and worrying about where my neighborhood friends were. School was not my biggest concern and reading was something we were forced to do. However, one of the first books I can remember having a strong influence on me was a picture book about a little bat falling out of her nest on accident and her journey to try and find her way back to the nest. This book seemed to have a significant meaning to me for its pictures and the fact that it was my grandmother’s book she kept for me.

In my own home, I don’t remember having anything significant that caught my attention. Anytime I wanted to go to my Grandma’s, I knew I had the choice of either watching the Wizard of Oz, or reading from my mini library.

The most recent book I’ve read with real enjoyment was Louise Erdrich’s The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse. The book was centered around the life of a priest named Father Damien, who spent his life on the Ojibwe lands. Father Damien, however, is really a woman formerly known as Agnes Dewitt who spent 80 years living among and serving this tribe. The story tells about her struggles and her self sacrifice and centers on a theme of sanctification and hagiography.