When I was very little and throughout my childhood I had a favourite book.
It was called “Poveste din pădure” (Story from the forest) but I always called it “Iepuraşul ȋn poieniƫă” (The bunny in the clearing), from the first verse of this rhymed book.
I don’t really remember my grandma reading it to me, but I know from what my family has told me that she used to, every night. She bought other books, tried to introduce something different to our bedtime routine, but I would always demand “Iepuraşul ȋn poieniƫă”. She could read the other books afterwards, but this one was mandatory every night, and it had to be the first.
I loved it deeply for years, and still have it! It surprises me that it survived the intense use, and I probably owe that to the loving care my grandma took of it.
I’m trying to find Sophia’s “Iepuraşul ȋn poieniƫă” and really hope she’s going to love books at least as much as I do, or more!
For they enrich your life and make it better, offer an escape when reality isn’t pleasant, let you learn and travel and dream and love and hate and understand other people.
In her book “The gardener and the carpenter”, Alison Gopnik says: “For adults, fiction and drama are the equivalent of pretend play and imaginary companions. And studies show that reading fiction can have the same advantages as pretending. People who read a great deal of fiction are consistently more empathetic and better at understanding other people.”
(By the way, The gardener and the carpenter is a MUST read for anybody who has children, is expecting, or has even the slightest intention of maybe having children, one day.)
So here’s to books, and the marvellous worlds they open for us!