You may have tangible wealth, untold caskets of jewels, and coffers of gold;
Richer than I you can never be, I had a mother who read to me.
~ Strickland Gillilan, The Reading Mother
I also have a mother who used to read to me. And on this Mother’s Day, I’d like to honor her and thank her, not only for giving me life, but also for encouraging my literary pursuits. All my life she has always nurtured my love of reading. Seldom was I scolded for bringing a book to the dining table. My poor eyesight was not blamed on reading in the dark or on reading in a moving vehicle. It was TV’s fault, never books. She could not admonish me for reading too much. After all, she was the one who taught me to read. My mom, Marieta Ruaza, was a teacher – to me and my siblings and to thousands of kids in the Philippines for over forty years.
She was also a short story writer. If writing is a hereditary trait, then I must have gotten it from her. I hope my son will get the writing gene, too. If not, I can only be happy to know that he appreciates my reading to him. Maybe, someday he will write a poem about his Reading Mom, too.
Thank you, Mommy. I love you! Happy Mother’s Day!