Encountering the Magic of Silent Reading at an Unexpected Age

My journey into reading started rather hurdling towards the difficult age of 4, but my transition from being read to and then to silent reading marked a pivotal moment in my life. I vividly recall this event as one of the most memorable experiences in my childhood. It was a day when my older brother, who was always a source of curiosity and occasional annoyance, posed a challenge that would change everything.

The Puzzlement of Silent Reading

My brother asked, 'Can’t you read to yourself?' This was a question that puzzled me. Before this moment, I had only known the joy of having someone read to me. My memories of the first books I picked up were those of childhood stories in which characters were not yet brought to life in my mind. Newspapers and school books were entirely different, and the idea that I could silently read them was something I had never considered. My brother's patience was evident as he instructed me, 'Just say the words in your head,' and before I knew it, I had opened a new chapter in my life.

The Moment of Discovery

What happened next was truly remarkable. Prior to this, my voice was the only sound I heard. Now, every character in the book seemed to have its own unique voice, distinct and vivid. Alongside this, the scenes of the story began to unfold in my mind like a moving picture. It was as if I had discovered a whole new world within the pages of the book. At the time, I was just 5 years old, and this experience was one of the most significant moments of my life.

Evolving_reading Habits and School Experiences

As a household with parents who were involved in education—my father as a teacher and my mother as a school secretary—I was, and still am, encouraged to read from a young age. I remember my earliest memories of reading were at around the age of 4-5, during quiet reading sessions in my infant school. These sessions involved going to the hall to choose a book and then following a strict order while everyone read quietly.

The Challenge of Learning-to-Read Books

Reading sessions involved repetitive and often monotonous reading of simple books. I recall being asked, 'This is Peter,' 'Peter has a dog,' and 'The dog is called Fido.' It was a tedious process, and I yearned for more challenging material. My teacher, always supportive, would often say, 'Finish these first,' to which I might have jokingly responded with, 'I don’t intend to live that long.' In reality, I just accepted my fate with resignation. However, I was already immersed in my own collection of big boy books at home, complete with complex sentences and engaging narratives.

Embracing My Love for Reading

Despite my initial frustration, my talent for reading soon caught the eye of my teacher. During oral reading sessions, I was described as 'expressive' and 'beautiful,' and these qualities were celebrated throughout primary school. However, the prospect of publicly reading in front of the class was daunting, and the anticipation led to my nervousness. Like a nervous Roald Dahl at the start of a Tales of the Unexpected, I would freeze up, making my expression seize up, and leaving me feeling like Chamberlain facing a vote of no confidence.

Awarded for My Reading Skills

Despite my initial nerves, eventually, I was chosen to read aloud to the entire class. The recognition brought a sense of pride and accomplishment. My teacher discovered my talent in oral reading sessions and I received such positive feedback that I was vigorously praised for my expressive and beautiful reading. I even won the reading cup at a later stage, complete with a Polaroid photo to prove it. However, it was all for show, as the sweets that filled the cup were denied to me. It felt like a rather stingy gesture after all the hard work!