There is no way that i would speak of my childhood without speaking of books. I loved books. I still do, very much. Never was it a surprising sight to see me all cuddled up with a book or moving around with a book(novel precisely) in hand. I always had those paperback few-pages novels. My parents always purchased them for me. I saved up my cash gifts and purchased some myself. I lent from friends too. Not a day passes that I did not read.
Beautiful as my childhood was, books made it so. While I denied myself from engaging in some of the games and fun my mates partook in, I found absolute pleasure in books. And I have no regrets about that.
It's said that;
Whatever is sown in the heart of a kid grows.
My parents loved books. They liked a child who studied. They supported my habit by getting me more and more books and encouraging me.
With every day, my interest grew, I became insatiable and started to tread on the territories of bulky and very much advanced books.
People knew me for being 'that small girl that's always reading' and because when a habit is formed, it becomes evident in other areas of your life, my academics never slacked. I always topped in class. Whatever it was, just as far as it involved book-work, I was recognized. Everyone was sure I would deliver. And I did.
I may have slacked a bit as I grew older but never did I give up completely. How can I when it is already a part of my life?
The value of the books I read cannot be overemphasized. That i can comprehend so well, think critically, have an amazing vocabulary and also concentrate, I owe it to this habit of reading books.
Books have and will always be a part of my life. The best game and best pal I had growing up.
Thanks for gracing this post.
Greetings!