Storytime

My mother would read to us at least an hour every night. Even after the TV came along and others would be watching, she would read to me. I am so thankful. This is a poem she wrote in the 1950's from a child's perspective.

StoryTime

Our house isn't as big
As the one next door
We need paint on the walls
And rugs on the floor
But I am as rich as rich can be
I have a mother who reads to me.

We have a big yard
But it isn't as neat
As lots of the other lawns
On our street
But I am content as I can be
I have a mother who reads to me.

And we do not have
The best thing in clothes
The shirt that I'm wearing
Used to be Joe's
But I am as proud as I can be
I have a mother who reads to me.

Oh, we do not own
A shiny, new car
With push-button windows
And hydraulic power
But I am happy as I can be
I have a mother who reads to me.

Our trips never take us
Far out-of-the-way
My dad doesn't have his
Vacations with pay
But I have trips across the sea
Since I have a mother who reads to me.~~~