Reading History
. I have always loved to read. Growing up I can remember my mom reading to me the same few picture books repetitively so I’d memorize the letter patterns. I remember the magical feeling when I started recognizing words. At first, I struggled with reading. Fortunately, my step-dad and mom pushed me to read every day and it paid off. By the time I was in fifth grade I tested to a twelfth grade reading level. Reading wasn’t just a chore, it played a huge role in my childhood. When I think about how reading shaped who I am, I consider all of the stories that I could relate to, or the stories that made me grateful that I live the life I do. I remember coming home, and spending my nights so involved in each turning page that I’d start a book and finish it in the same
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In the story, the main characters were Max the kind-hearted son of a convicted murderer, and “Freak” a very smart handicapped boy. As the story unfolds, Freak and Kevin become friends when Freak and his mom move in next door. They go on many adventures until Max’s dad gets out on parole and kidnaps Max. Eventually, the police arrest Max’s dad. Freak then starts to outgrow his body, but before he dies he gives Max an empty book so he can write the story of Freak the Mighty. I was eleven when I read Freak the Mighty and it still has a special place in my heart. Another book I can remember was Freight Train by Donald Crews. I remember learning colors with that book, to eventually reading words, to reading it to my little brothers to teach them their colors years later. One of the reasons I love it the most, however, is because my parents got divorced when I was a baby, and my dad gave me his copy from when he was a kid. I would carry around his ripped and tattered copy everywhere when I missed him, and I hope that I can share it with my kids when I reach