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.