I shared my room with my father’s office when I was young in our old apartment. My bed and my desk were on the outer side of the room, and my father’s desk was inside, divided by huge book shelves. I would beg my father to read stories to me before I slept, and then I would fall asleep under the warm orange light on my father’s desk across the room after several stories.
When I got older, my father started to not have enough time to read to me every night. That was when he decided that I should be able to read on my own. On the book shelves which divided my side of the room and my father’s side, there were books for my father to read to me before I slept and some books of his own. He started to buy books that I would be interested in and able to understand and fill them in the book shelves.
I remember the first book that I read happened to be the children version of The Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare in Chinese. Proud of myself for basically understanding the book, I decided that I did not need my father to read to me anymore. Ever since that book, I started to read books that my father bought me by myself at night.
Slowly, I was not satisfied with the books that my father bought for me. I asked him to take me to a book store, and then it became our monthly activity. My father would find somewhere to sit while waiting for me to pick out books that interested me in the children section until I picked out too many that I could not carry. He never put restrictions on what books I was reading or how many books I was getting. He always said that it was worth it to spend money on books. The freedom that he gave me established my passion for reading.
When I got older, my father started to not have enough time to read to me every night. That was when he decided that I should be able to read on my own. On the book shelves which divided my side of the room and my father’s side, there were books for my father to read to me before I slept and some books of his own. He started to buy books that I would be interested in and able to understand and fill them in the book shelves.
I remember the first book that I read happened to be the children version of The Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare in Chinese. Proud of myself for basically understanding the book, I decided that I did not need my father to read to me anymore. Ever since that book, I started to read books that my father bought me by myself at night.
Slowly, I was not satisfied with the books that my father bought for me. I asked him to take me to a book store, and then it became our monthly activity. My father would find somewhere to sit while waiting for me to pick out books that interested me in the children section until I picked out too many that I could not carry. He never put restrictions on what books I was reading or how many books I was getting. He always said that it was worth it to spend money on books. The freedom that he gave me established my passion for reading.