Classic

In homeschooling, some things just stick.

Some things just fit your style, your family, your method. Some things just work.

For us, one of those is Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons— affectionately known around here as “the reading book.”

So far, this single volume has been the first foray into reading for Mathaus, Jack, and John Mark. Then, last week, Birdie flopped herself dramatically across the arm of the couch and declared that if she didn’t learn to read soon she would probably die. Or cry. I really don’t know which she said for sure, because to be honest, I was concentrating really hard on not laughing out loud.

So here I am, back at the beginning with a book that is like an old friend. Pointing to “M” and waiting for the sweet little voice from my lap to answer back, “Mmmmmmm.” Whispering, “Let’s try it faster now. Mmmm. Aaaa. T. Mmmaaaat. Mmaat. Mat!” and feeling the wiggly, contagious excitement of that little person as the whole world suddenly started to take shape in an entirely new way.

I carried this book from Washington to Nepal, and never even considered leaving it behind. The deathly quiet, still afternoon when I sat on the floor in our little schoolroom in Kathmandu sorting the books I had pulled from the shelves into piles of stay or go in the hopes of reducing our return weight, there was no decision to be made.

 

Stained pages (reading lessons are often a tea time affair, apparently), worn cover, and all;  “the reading book” came back. Of course.

I’ve yet to have a child work his way to the end of this book. By the time we reach lesson 60 or so, the magic of licking cows (sorry, you’re just going to have to read it for yourself) has faded, and my new little reader has what it takes to make the leap to just about anything that catches his fancy. The Reading Book goes back on the shelf, waiting for the next curious learner to come along.

And that, I think, is the definition of a classic.