Reading changes Magoo’s world. He’s now in on all the big secrets, a liberated learner. Now that he’s a reader, his life is limitless.

In my excitement this week, and there are really few things in life more exciting than watching an emergent reader, my mind has been repeatedly drawn to all the kids and families out there who don’t have books in their homes, who aren’t able to cultivate and feed this fire.

I can’t really remember being read to as a young child. But I’m sure it happened, because when I became a father I discovered that some picture books would make me emotional. I’d be reading to my daughter, and all of a sudden find that my voice was choking up and my eyes were tearing. And it wasn’t because the stories were especially sad. It happened with The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton, and with Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey, and with lots of other books, too. It was actually a little irritating.

Imagine a young child with cerebral palsy who cannot walk or even sit up without help.  Now imagine what can happen if a loving parent reads to him every day. At first, perhaps, this is nothing more than a time to cuddle and look at pretty pictures together, or, if the child is young enough, to wag the cardboard pages back and forth, pat them, and chew them. It is a start.  After many happy hours, the child has come to know the names of all of the pictures in his books. 

I’m a pediatrician, a clinic doc. I work at MetroHealth Medical Center, the public hospital in Cleveland. Mostly, I see children with runny noses and failing grades, parents with long workdays and short paychecks.

Today I saw something new and remarkable.  A public library opened a branch right in the center of the hospital.