Andie Passi

Professor Campbell

UWRT 1103

26 January 2015

Goodnight Stories

Who are you? Why are you chasing me? Leave me alone! Please, leave me alone! Suddenly I arose, sweating, trembling, unable to catch my breath. Where was I? What was going on this time? Why was I screaming? Footsteps came sprinting down the hallway. That noise was all too familiar. Thats mom coming in to make sure Im okay.. for the fourth time this week. Not to mention, its only Thursday. Why did this keep happening to me? Why couldnt I sleep through one night without being awoken by that monster?

Those thoughts consumed my head for most of my nights. I was only four years old. Every night I would wake up, crying, because of some horrible reoccurring nightmare that lived in my innocent little mind. My mom and I spent five months straight trying different methods to get me to sleep peacefully through the night. Anything from singing me lullabies to making me warm milk before bed to sleeping by my side, my mom tried it all. Nothing ever seemed to help. Every night turned into a sleepless night for my mom. And for me, I did not know what it felt like to get a good night sleep.

It wasnt until one night while having another nightmare that my mom entered my room, waking me up from it. I remember thinking she was one of the monster from the nightmare as she came closer to me. Once I was fully awake I recall seeing her standing by my bed with an object in her hand. She reached across my bed and turned on my lamp so that I could see the object clearly. It was a book. At that time of the night, I was beyond confused as to why she was bringing me a book, but I did not question it. She laid down next to me and opened the mysterious book. This had to have been the biggest book I had ever seen. She flipped through the old, wrinkled pages, showing me the many stories it consisted of. I have an idea, she said.

The night after, my mother came up to my room around 8 oclock and laid down with me. She brought this big book with her and together we picked out one of the short stories to read. My mom called it her experiment. She said books were so powerful and they could help just about any problem you had. We turned to page one. As I heard the vivid words of the story flow off my mothers tongue, I started to feel my eyelids becoming heavy. By page two, I was sound asleep. This time, no thoughts of scary monsters flooded my head. No villains or bad guys. This time, I had a peaceful sleep. The next time I heard my mothers footsteps coming down the hall was the morning after. She wasnt running this time. She was coming to say good morning.

That was the start of my love for books. After that night, my house became flooded with books. Goodnight Moon, Rainbow Fish, Doctor Seuss.. you name it, we had it. Reading became our new ritual. Every night around 8 oclock was reading time. In addition to reading every night, my mom and I started reading when we woke up, waiting for my brother in the carpool line at school, and even while making dinner. We would take trips to the library at least three times a week. Everything about books and reading suddenly interested me. Not to mention, the best part of the whole story was that never once after that first night of being read to did I ever have a nightmare again. It was like magic.

This ritual continued throughout my four-year-old years. My interest for books grew even more during this time. I was preparing to enter my first year of schooling and I had already read just about half of the library. Night after night of reading more and more books, I soon learned how to read. Some nights, before my mom would even get upstairs, I already had the book for the night picked out and had started reading the words I knew. I was eager to read. Through out the day, I would look forward to the night because I knew it was reading time. I knew that instead of having horrible monster dreams, my mind would instead be filled with the characters from my books. It was almost like the book I was reading got continued into my dream.

There was no doubt that after several months of the same ritual, I actually became a pretty good reader for a four-year-old. My mom decided to make a deal with me. I was really interested in all of the Disney books so she decided that if I could read one all the way through before entering kindergarten, she would take me to Disney World. There was nothing that could motivate me to read more than that. The Disney characters flooded my dreams. Knowing that that could be reality, too, was more than a dream. I had to accomplish this.

The tables started to turn. Instead of mom coming up and reading to me, I was now reading to her. At first, it was a little shaky. She had to help me out with most of the big words but that did not stop me. Nothing could stop me. I kept going, night after night, until I knew I had mastered it. Every night got a little bit better. Every night, my mom had less corrections to make.

After many months, the big night had arrived. It was August 24th, the night before kindergarten. Anxiously awaiting my moms arrival, I sat in bed practicing The Little Mermaid, my favorite Disney book. By the time she got to my room, I was trembling. My hands were shaking, I could hardly open the book. She sat down at the end of my bed and I slowly began reading. The whole time I was waiting to hear her correct me or to even open her mouth but to my surprise, it never happened. I closed the last page of the book. I wasnt sure what her silence meant. Was it bad? Did I mess something up? She got off the bed and hugged me. At that point I knew I had done a good job. Mom leaned over to me and whispered, we are going to Disney World. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was smiling from ear to ear. I was beyond proud of myself and now I would get to live out my dreams! There was nothing that could take away the happiness I was feeling. Lets just say I didnt get any sleep that night.

The first day of kindergarten was different than I had expected. I thought all kids knew how to read. I was very wrong. The first week, the teachers read to us at the end of each day. They read all of my favorite books including The Little Mermaid. Weeks to come, our teachers started assigning us simple little books to take home and have our parents read to us. They would give us a week to read them but I always had mine back the day after I was given one. My teachers started to catch on to my interest for reading. In fact, by the end of my first year school, I was almost on a second grade reading level.

My love for reading only grew throughout my childhood years. Some of the greatest life lessons I still follow to this day came from the childrens book section of Barnes and Noble. I find that reading and understanding those stories at such a young age helped shape the person I am today. Whether learning about sharing, honesty, or friendship, there is something to take from every story. Till this day, when I have trouble sleeping or even just want to get something off my mind, I find myself reading these books. My mom was right, literature is a very powerful thing. Although I do not enjoy reading long novels and assigned books from professors, I can say that literature made a huge impact on my life as a little kid and without it and it shaped me into the person I am today.