Letters To Lyla

Dear Lyla,

Even as a baby you loved stories. You loved the excitement of the various characters created for you and you would anticipate the cadences Daddy and I used to bring the story to its peak and eventual closure. As a baby actions and realistic sounding animals noises were not optional in your world and poor performances by your parents were scarcely tolerated. As you grew the stories became more complex and your standards for acceptable storytelling increased. Daddy and I were excited to see that, while you still liked to be read to, you began to make up your own stories; and what stories they are (complete with illustrations and thought bubbles you learned to make in Mrs. Taylor’s kindergarten class). Like you, when I was little, I loved to hear my mommy read stories to me.  Grandma Jo was very good at reading stories. Grandma  has the perfect voice for storytelling; not too loud, not too soft, not too high and not too low. I know that Grandma read to me a lot when I was really young, though I do not have very clear memories of her doing so. My sister and I learned to read at a very young age and, being as independent as I was, I soon preferred to read on my own. I imagine that this may have made Grandma a little sad, I know that I will miss our time together reading when you will neither require nor want my assistance; I will even miss your bony little chin digging into my shoulder as you peer over it to get a closer look at the pictures. I do hope that you will remember our time together; our silliness, the characters we created together and the funny noises and grunts that punctuated our stories. Even though my own memory of reading with Grandma is foggy there is one story that I will never forget; The Emperor’s New Clothes. I remember this story because it was one of the few books that was available in the doctor’s office we used to visit as children. For me, going to our yearly checkups was always a bit scary and in order to get me to relax Grandma Jo would read The Emperor’s New Clothes to me. I remember the illustrations clearly, a tiger played the part of the emperor and his subjects were a motley and colorful crew. I recall asking grandma what an emperor was; she said he was a kind of prince. I thought he must not be very bright to believe in invisible clothes but I was mortified that people would let the prince go naked and cheat him out of money; that was not very kind. Grandma said the moral of the story was to think for yourself or you would end up like the naked prince; sage advice indeed. At an early age I learned to love books and the wisdom they offered. The stories I read took me to faraway places and offered adventures of every kind. The love of good storytelling is a precious gift that Grandma and Bumpa gave to me; a lifelong relationship with the written word. A well woven story can transcend differences, heal hurts and open our hearts to different realities. A good book can be a beloved friend, a source of inspiration and a fountain of wisdom; it can even save you from becoming a naked prince.  It is our hope that you will come to love reading Little One. That you will have a deep and lasting devotion to storytelling; one that fosters curiosity, imagination and an abiding respect for the human condition.