A few months ago, Phoebe and her classmates were given the opportunity to sign up to "read" a book of their choosing at storytime. I would ask Phoebe periodically if she wanted to sign up, and she kept saying no, which I attributed to her shyness. Then one day she said, "I would sign up to read a book, but I don't know how to read yet!"
"Oh, honey, you don't have to know how to read -- you can just tell the story any way you want!" I said.
"No you can't," she said.
"Of course you can! None of your friends know how to read either -- they're just making up the words."
"Really?" she said.
"Really," I said.
"Wow. Wow! I can do that too!" she said.
"Of course you can!" I said.
So she signed up the very next day. And she chose her favorite book:
I went to watch her, and I don't think anyone in that room besides me realized that she wasn't actually reading. She recited almost every word of that book, even the "fancy" ones like elegant and exquisite and furious and extraordinary. She put in dramatic pauses and flourishes and her audience laughed in all the right places.
She was very proud of herself.
I was proud of her too.
"Oh, honey, you don't have to know how to read -- you can just tell the story any way you want!" I said.
"No you can't," she said.
"Of course you can! None of your friends know how to read either -- they're just making up the words."
"Really?" she said.
"Really," I said.
"Wow. Wow! I can do that too!" she said.
"Of course you can!" I said.
So she signed up the very next day. And she chose her favorite book:
I went to watch her, and I don't think anyone in that room besides me realized that she wasn't actually reading. She recited almost every word of that book, even the "fancy" ones like elegant and exquisite and furious and extraordinary. She put in dramatic pauses and flourishes and her audience laughed in all the right places.
She was very proud of herself.
I was proud of her too.
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