When my wife was pregnant with our first child, she told me that an unborn baby could hear the voices around them and would recognize those voices when they were born.

            Already immersed in a book series, I decided to start reading the next book aloud to my wife’s growing belly.  This became a nightly routine where my wife and I would talk about the story, bonding over the narrative while focusing on our developing baby before bed.

            I don’t know how much of a difference it made in terms of voice recognition or soothing her in the early days, but it did a lot for me.  It was like an evening meditation, a time to focus on nurturing and connecting.

            The tradition of reading to my daughter continued after she was born.  She would find little books with thick cardboard pages and crawl in my lap.  Then, I would be instructed to read the same story about ten times in a row.

             Later, we moved on to longer stories.  Sometimes, she just wanted me to tell her a story as she went to sleep rather than read one.  This led to me making up stories, often with requests for the same tales again.  I didn’t remember what I had made up spontaneously, so they evolved into an ongoing story with reoccurring characters—stories that would eventually form the basis of a book years later.

            Years passed, and we began chapter books. Winnie the Pooh, Charlotte’s Web, and other E.B. White classics were great starting points. I think emphasis is put on reading to children to encourage literacy.  Well, that certainly happened. My daughter is an avid reader today, but something deeper happened.

            We delved into the Little House on the Prairie series, which sparked many questions and nightly discussions, deepening our connection. I hadn’t planned on this being such a nightly tradition, but I had come to really enjoy it. To my surprise, she asked to start the series again—and we did, completing it two more times. That’s when I was on a mission to find other classic books.

The evening reading became even more special as younger siblings came along. It was a distraction-free time with no work phone calls—a time when we could check-in. She had my full attention for at least a while, scheduled at the end of every day.

When we finished the end of the series, I did not know what she would want to do next.  Although I hadn’t anticipated this becoming a nightly tradition, it became one of my favorite times of the day.  When the series was finished, she asked to start again.  We did.  And completed it again.  And then a third time.  Then, I was on a mission to find other classic books.

At times when I was drained, I had no idea how unique and limited this time was.  The day came years later when she had been able to read quite well, and she let me know she preferred just to read the books herself.  I have three other kids and read to them as well the way I started with her, but this still was a big change in my nightly routine that lasted for years.  I will always be grateful for that time.

 I have come to believe from those years that a story should challenge a child enough that it brings up questions.  These types of questions challenge the parent to give an honest answer.  This sets up a routine that provides much more than literacy or thinking critically about events in a story.  It establishes something much more profound.  It develops a relationship in which meaningful conversations are a staple.  This is the attitude that I use when approaching evening storytime.

 My younger kids heard from my older daughter about an ongoing story that I used to tell.  It was one that I would make up spontaneously on rough nights when there was no interest in existing books.  I did not remember most of what I made up, so I just began again.  Then I decided that I should probably write this down.  What if grandkids wanted to hear it, too?  Once I started writing, I thought about a couple of things.  First, chapter lengths should be the perfect bedtime story length.  I thought about the age range.  I did not see why the story could not be exciting and appropriate for all ages, so that became my aim.  This would be something that siblings of varied ages could enjoy all together.  Also, I wanted it to bring up questions that would spark great conversations.  I did not shy away from words or situations that may need to be defined or clarified by parents.  I have realized this is one of the most meaningful benefits of bedtime reading.

 Through my books and posts, I aim to share a piece of myself, offering content that sparks meaningful conversations and benefits readers of all ages.