My alma mater is Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. Since graduating in 2006, I have enjoyed receiving copies of their high-quality publications. The article below was originally printed in 1984, when the author became BYU Magazine’s longtime book reviewer. I first read it when it was republished in 2011, but the words have stuck with me ever since, particularly his list of “Five Blessings of Reading.” I am so pleased to have the opportunity to share this excerpt with you and hope you will continue on to read the article in its entirety!

No Good Stopping Place

By Richard H. Cracroft

I was certain it was forbidden. And so, of course, I did it—and got away with it, I thought. Night after delicious night, beginning at about age 13, I would say my prayers, prop my antiallergenic pillows high, turn on the bedlamp, and settle in for my nightly read—in such pasty jewels as Tom Swift, Nancy Drew, and, gem of gems, Red Randall at Pearl Harbor. At or near 10 o’clock, my be-nightgowned mother would enter my room; bestow a be-Mentholatumed, be-curlered, and be–cold creamed kiss upon my brow; and turn out my light. As soon as the door closed, I would pull my four-battery Boy Scout flashlight from beneath the mattress and settle in for the most delicious (because forbidden) minutes of my day—reading until the end of the chapter or the episode or the mystery, or until the stack of peanut butter–laden saltine crackers in my bedstand drawer had finally disappeared, leaving their miserable crumbs across the expanse of my bed.

This pleasant routine grew less exciting, however, when I realized, at about age 14, that no batteries could last that long—that Mom had been replenishing them, thus subsidizing my sin. I soon brazenly began leaving the bedlamp on until Dad, elbowed by Mom, would speak as one having authority—that is, loudly—and, after half-past 12 or so, would yell, “Dick, turn out the light—now!” Resigned to the inevitability of sleep, I would grudgingly mumble, “As soon as I reach a stopping place,” and comply.

Since those halcyon days, and especially since becoming a parent myself, I have often pondered the subtle and less-than-subtle ways in which my parents encouraged reading and a love for the arts in our home. I admired them for their conscious and unconscious encouragement, and I wished to go and do likewise. Somewhere, in their very English homes or in high school, they had learned to place a premium on the value of literature. Somewhere, they had learned that literature—and its fair handmaidens, art and music—provides various but satisfying pathways to the discovery of oneself; that study of the best literature (the belles lettres) and the best of music and art allows access to significant human experience and thus can dramatically increase one’s awareness . . .

The rest of the article can be found at the Y Magazine website. Richard goes on to explain how his parents provided a rich foundation for reading in their home, describes his lifelong reading habits, and relates a story that gave him hope regarding his children. I challenge you to print off his “Five Blessings of Reading” (listed at the end of the article) to keep handy when you need extra motivation to read with your children. I so appreciate Richard’s robust thoughts and how they have stayed with me all these years. For in words we find power; in reading we find knowledge.

The joy I find in reading is how it connects us to one another. Bonds are created either through chemistry with the characters on the pages or the closeness of snuggling up with someone you love to find out what will happen next.

When I was a little girl, my father would read to me every night from the same set of storybooks. My favorites included The Donkeyskins, The Three Dogs, and The Ogre’s Three Golden Hairs. The books were large, very old, and extremely tattered, but that didn’t matter. I loved hearing my dad read them to me, because he brought the stories to life through his animated voice and actions, and my imagination would race as I examined the beautifully detailed illustrations.

These books were so dear to my childhood that when I started a family of my own, my father gifted me a few of the books, which are no longer in print. Over the years, my husband and I have found other books of this long lost series to add to our collection. My children, especially my daughter, adore these books, and feel a special connection to their grandfather as I read in the same animated way.

In November 2020, my father passed away, but through these beautiful stories there is a part of him that will never leave us.

Jeana is a wonderful friend we met through church. She possesses an incredible singing voice, a stunning smile, and a heart of gold. We have been the recipients of her caring service many times. She homeschools her two children and has shared her talents for music in various impressive productions. Jeana, thank you for sharing these touching thoughts on reading with your family!

tawnyember

I’ve never been much of a reader. In fact, I would only read if it was an assignment for school, or if it was necessary for work. It has always been hard for me to create an image in my head of what I am reading, as well as comprehend it. My mind wanders off in its own thoughts when I try to read.  

I’ve often wondered why that is, because my parents are avid readers, and I know that my siblings enjoy reading as well. I’m not sure what happened to me. 

Things changed, however, when I accepted a job to work as a library assistant at an elementary school. I know, I know . . . what the heck was I thinking, accepting work at a library when I didn’t even like to read? My thoughts exactly.  

My first duty was to put away all the books that kids had returned. I was fulfilling my responsibilities without thinking anything would ever interest me. It was just a job, and I would keep it at that. However, something happened. My curiosity began as I looked at the front covers of the books I was putting away. I became interested.  

After four months of working there, I finally checked out my first children’s book. It was called The Man Who Walked Between the Two Towers, a true story of a Frenchman who walked on a high wire between the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York in 1974. I actually really enjoyed it! I liked having a picture to look at to help my mind stay on track with what I was reading.

For the first time in my entire life, I felt like I actually enjoyed what I read. This has grown into a fondness for juvenile biographies. I guess it’s never too late to learn to appreciate reading, even if they are picture books.

tawnyember

I am an editor. Twenty years ago, I was a wildlife biologist. In my spare time, I sell art in a gallery. Before that, I had a side gig playing steel drums in a Caribbean restaurant. I sometimes wonder how I never just settled on one thing. Somehow, I couldn’t leave behind any of my disparate interests. I have dragged them all with me.

I think it must have to do with the worlds that were given to me as a child through books. These worlds of interest were added to my native love of the outdoors and all things wild. Above all, a love of literature was gifted to me. I thank my dad for not only showing me pond water through a microscope but for reading to my siblings and me without fail every night—authors such as E. B. White, Roald Dahl, Mark Twain, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Hans Christian Andersen, and Jack London. And I thank my mom for passing down her good eye for grammar.

Today, most of my time is spent reading and improving on what others have written on topics ranging from space radiation to feline orthodontia to child development. I find a broad knowledge of basic things extremely useful in editing. I’m able to understand the premise of an article or chapter even when I’m clueless about the details. I love continuing to learn and check on facts about subjects all over the map.

As my three kids grew up, I read a range of books to them. There was the couch reading of picture books, the after-dinner reading of scriptures that brought the family all together, and bedtime reading. The latter was my favorite, as I could read for longer and mostly chose the books myself. I read all of the Chronicles of Narnia, adding my commentary about Christ along the way. I read Dahl and Tolkien, I covered the Little House books, and I cried as I read aloud the end of Charlotte’s Web (eliciting some groans from the bunkbed).

My kids have not yet turned out to be huge readers, but they all read and write well. Just as important, they have various interests. Their knowledge expanded with each book we read, as much as if they had read all these books themselves. I recently copyedited a report by a client who does evaluations of children with learning disabilities. She gave this recommendation to the parents and teachers of one boy: “When you ask him about what he’s reading lately, he should talk about his audiobook, as that is simply reading with his ears instead of his eyes; in both cases, the information gets in.” 

The information gets in. And with it comes a world of possibilities for our children’s futures.

Skye is another of my amazing sisters! Her prowess in finding writing errors are akin to a hounddog tracking game. She is remarkable. As disappointed as I am when she finds something in my poetry or essays, I never quite feel my writing is complete without having her take a go at it. Her website is edit-guru.com. Go check it out! Editing may sound boring to some, but I can assure you that Skye is the most adventurous of all my siblings. She enjoys hiking, traveling, painting watercolors, and playing the piano, steel drums, and clarinet.

tawnyember

I just wrapped up my fifth year of homeschooling our daughters. It feels like I’m in school as well because we are learning together, and it is much more fun than when I was in school at their age. Is learning always more fun as an adult? Or when it’s the second time around? Or is it more fun because I get to choose what books we use to learn from?

Yep. That must be it!

In the great southern state that we live in, there is no mandatory curriculum that I’m required to use for homeschool. I get to use my best judgment and piece together what I think is right for my children. Because of that flexibility, I have been able to choose historical fiction novels slightly above their reading level, and we read them together several days a week.

We have made crafts, food, and played games based on what we have read in historical fiction novels. We have felt like time travelers because of the magical ability an author has to paint the scene, inform us, and draw us in to the book.

Some of our favorite historical fiction books are:

• Number the Stars by Lois Lowry
• Esperanza Rising by Pam Muñoz Ryan
• One Crazy Summer series by Rita Williams Garcia
• The Little House on the Prairie series by Laura Ingalls Wilder
• The Mostly True Adventures of Homer P. Figg by Rodman Philbrick
• I Survived The American Revolution, 1776 by Lauren Tarshis

Reading together has been such a gift to me, and hopefully has created impactful memories that my girls will have forever.

In addition to reading historical fiction, we loved the mini biographies in Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls and Stories For Boys Who Dare To Be Different. After reading about the person highlighted, we would search YouTube for a performance or interview of them.

Reading with my girls has given us an excuse to snuggle on the couch, to unwind, to laugh and cry together, to learn, implement and improve our lives. By choosing books that are intriguing to them, it has encouraged their thirst for more knowledge, as well as a desire to read on their own. Reading together has been such a gift to me, and hopefully has created impactful memories that my girls will have forever.

Janna is my nephew’s wife, but since we are close in age, I consider her a sister-in-law. She has a wonderful bubbly personality and is a talented, certified self-love life coach. You can find her website at coachwithjanna.com, and her videos are incredibly helpful! Janna loves reading, chocolate, minimalism, and visiting sunny beaches.

tawnyember

With Father’s Day approaching, my wife Tawny asked me to write a Father’s perspective on reading with our children. I’m grateful for the opportunity to share my thoughts. While I have enjoyed putting together the technical side of this website, I have also been inspired by everyone’s response to and participation in it. And now I’ll try my hand at the writing side.

As a small boy, I was enthralled with raccoons. Inevitably, my mother treated me to all kinds of raccoon paraphernalia, including stuffed animals, t-shirts, and books. It has been quite a treat to turn around and share these items with my children. My youngest in particular has us read Rutherford Raccoon to her at least once a week. I find that both tender and odd, because her animal of choice is meow-meows.

I have done a fair share of reading to kids over the years. Some of my favorite memories are of reading to a small child or two on my lap. I will admit there are a few books that are difficult for me to get through. The Giving Tree and Love You Forever are a couple that somehow always put a catch in my throat. Maybe it’s because that’s how my mom read them to me. As the kids each get older and begin to read more on their own, I get that bittersweet feeling they don’t need as much of my help anymore.

My second youngest was well on her way with intermediate reader books, but still loved to be read to. She got her hands on a lengthy graphic novel called Smile by Raina Telgemeier. The book centers around a young girl who, while running, trips and breaks out her two front teeth. (I don’t really know why she loves this book so much, but she does.) She had already gotten my wife to read it to her once, and was hoping to read it again, but Tawny wanted to move on through the other library books. 

Now, I don’t really care for graphic novels very much, but I wondered if this might be one of my last chances to read with her before she was a self-sufficient reader. Every night we read a bit together. After a couple days, I started to really look forward to the evening, when things would quiet down and we would read together. Sometimes she wanted to read and other times she let me read. It was amazing to listen to her read so fluently. Every once in a while she would need my help, but not often. 

We finished that book after about a week. It seemed like that might be the end of it, but then she found another Reina Telgemeier book to read. We eventually finished up with that series and have since read about the Titanic, Egypt and King Tut, and Queen Elizabeth. We have read The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, Because of Winn Dixie, and many others. 

If I hadn’t been willing to read that first book, I would have missed out on so much. I wouldn’t have found out about all the things my daughter is interested in, and we would not have enjoyed all that time together. My takeaway from that experience I want to share with other dads is this: your kids might already be very capable readers, and they might already have a routine with their mom, but don’t miss out on the opportunity to grow closer to them through reading good books.

This remarkable man held my hand
Through high school and college.
Then gently let go for missions.
He gripped it again at the altar;
Clutched it through moves, degrees, 
Chronic pain, infertility, work trips, 
Adoption, childbirth, church, 
House projects, hobbies, and dreams.
Oh, how grateful I am for this man,
Who clings to our five children
With his other devoted, mighty hand.

tawnyember