Tonight in our teen gathering (PV&J) we announced a drive to collect books for Reach Out and Read Arkansas. I hope it goes well. As I was thinking about this over the thanksgiving break, I really did think about how thankful I am to have been given the gift of literacy, one of the many advantages that I normally don’t even think about.
I grew up in a home where reading was important, and books were plentiful. I remember the simple grace of being given a lamp by my bed for the distinct purpose of being able to read in my bed at night. (I remember getting in trouble for reading without the light on…it would hurt my eyes I was told.) Trips to the bookstore were good times.
60% of children growing up in poverty in the US have no books in the home. That’s unbelievable to me, an unfathomable scenario. I don’t think of reading as a luxury. Time for reading, perhaps, but the skill itself is such a critical part of my life that a world without books, without being surrounded by the stories, perspective and possibilities that fill books…I think that would define poverty for me. Life where the necessities of survival demand such attention and despair is such a constant companion that literature can’t find a foothold. I think if I always had books, I could live, happily, without a lot of other things. But the reality is, if your pressed by poverty, building a library doesn’t feel like a priority.
