To my dearest Kaia,
I know you long for the letters to make sense, to unite themselves and speak to you. I know each syllable is a battle for you and I see you fighting.
By the time you are able to read this well, you will have won the battle.
You will have put in the hours of tracing your finger along the page and sounding out each painstaking phonics rule with your brows knit tight and the corner of your lower lip tucked between your teeth. You will have arranged letter tiles, your tiny fingers washing over their surfaces trying to make language. You will have flipped through the ring of sight words cards until their punched hole grows ragged and worn.
I know that Anne and Sara Crew and Laura have taken you on adventures, their stories trailing into your heart and mind through the soft drone of your cd’s. I know that those spinning disks have kept you company for long hours and your imagination overflows with familiar friends.
I know that each trip to the library leaves us like squealing schoolgirls as we pile books high and prepare to feast.
But I also know you are still a foreigner to the ways these letters move, the words as familiar as your own memories, but unrecognizable on the pages you have all but memorized.
And I know that as you look around, you are beginning to notice that for some the stringing of words and phrases comes swiftly and the syllables turn to pages and the pages to chapters.
And I worry as all mothers worry when I see the shadow cross your face and I see your eyes cast down and your tiny fingers clasped tight working themselves into a knot. I see you when the other children are chiming in with their answers and you look up and frown hard at the words and your head drops, your hair cascading like a curtain to cover your embarrassment and you take a step back.
I see you, sweet girl, and I know. When other girls are flying through the Box Car Children and American Girls on their own, and we are left picking Early Readers, I understand.
Because love, we all have things we want to do. And we all have people who do them better, faster, easier.
So the task at hand is to search for the treasure in where we find ourselves.
It may not always seem like traveling a harder road is fair or even a blessing.
But know this. Listen to these words and bury them deep.
You are as brilliant as the brightest star, your mind on fire. But baby girl, we all burn differently.
Some, like Judah, pick up that first spark of vowels and consonants and blaze through pages gobbling up words. Some, like your father, struggle to get the embers to flame. Like coals, under the surface, their molten centers don’t cast off flashes for all to see but oh, how they burn.
A smoldering warmth buried deep.
And that is what I thank the Lord for when I see you struggle.
You snuggled next to me with pillows piled high and mounds of white downy covers floating above us. Warmth. You tucked in the crook of my arm, the sweet honey of your hair filling my senses, and the delicious taste of these words in my mouth, spilling out for you.
The sparkle in your eye and the pleading for one more chapter, one more sentence or word to fill your mind. The soft rustle of the dog-eared pages, stories from my girlhood, and I have the pleasure of introducing you to my old friends.
That this prose, this narrative, this poetry is our communion. We share these words, you and I. And my love for literature and my love for you intertwine in these moments and I savor them in my soul as you wrap yourself into me and anticipate each line.
You struggle and I see you. But know that the struggle is building up stamina and endurance and flames are easy to douse but coals burn through the night and rise again to blaze on.
I love you Boo and I’m so very proud of all your hard work and determination, you make my mama heart swell.
Love,
Your reading buddy, mom
*****
It’s been four years since I wrote this post. A few days ago I asked my FB friends for book suggestions for Kaia because she reads so much, I can barely keep up. I came back to this post today and re-read it and then I let Kaia read it. And she did. Every last word. I’m so proud of my girl, then and now. I’ve never seen a girl love the gift of books as much as Kaia and I believe it’s because she’s always had to fight for it.
Oh…….. I know that heart. When I tell people of my Dillon and his desire to read the 23rd Psalm in class. My fear for him. My bursting pride and tears at his achievement as he stumbled and wobbled his way through those words in front of a group of kids who could have read that years ago….
We are fiercely proud of those hard-won achievements, aren’t we. To contrast the child who learns easily with the one who does not. Not to compare, but to encourage in the differences.
*sigh*
Proud mamas indeed. I feel pride for all of my kids in their own ways but in the areas where they really struggle, It both breaks and fills my heart because the road to get there is so rough. I think Dillon has done exceptionally well and his poise in the midst of his presentations etc. was something to see. I only hope I will do as good a job with Kaia, encouraging her along in this area. Miss your face, friend.
This is beautiful. I love writing letters to my daughters. I very much find myself in your description of yourself! Glad to have found you….visiting from imperfect prose.
Thanks for stopping by here. That was my first time linking up there, and it was fun to read new blogs. I have decided to do a collection of Love letters to all the people in my life that I want to express my heart thoughts to. Do you have a blog too?
oh, this mama ache! you capture it exquisitely. much grace and growth is wrought in the struggle, sweet victories to those who fight harder. i love how you are cultivating closeness and a love for stories and books. so many quench that love right out, but you tend it and her so lovingly.
Yes, I think all mamas have those moments. And it’s easy to want to take the struggle away or wish the insecurity never even entered the picture but God gives such grace and blessings out of our trials.
You really got me with this: “You are as brilliant as the brightest star, your mind on fire. But baby girl, we all burn differently.” I had to read the rest through misty eyes.
You wove together this story so incredibly beautifully. It is so hard as a mama to watch our children struggle- I find the ache it causes to be far more painful than any of my own struggles caused me.
Stopping by from imperfect prose (and now a new follower!)
Thanks Tiffany, my husband is profoundly dyslexic and it’s been hard to watch a grown man recall years of struggling in school etc. and wonder about being less than. But he is brilliant in so many ways, he’s just has to learn things hands on. My daughter is more like him, and my son is more like me. And it’s definitely harder to watch your child struggle or hurt than to take the pain yourself. Thanks for visiting here. I love meeting new readers.
So you use Barton Reading and Spelling, too? My brothers are dyslexic, and Mum has found that to be the best help EVER in teaching them to read. After struggling for about 5 years to teach them the commercial way (which they weren’t learning through), she stumbled upon Barton. And it WORKS. Even if you aren’t seeing improvement yet, it WILL come. We are finally seeing improvement, which is SO exciting!
God bless you!
Esther
(joyful-maiden.blogspot.com)
Esther, my daughter is 7 but we’ve been homeschooling for several years since she was so eager to copy her big brother, but after almost 3 years of alphabets and phonics lessons she wasn’t able to sound things out and although she knows the letter sounds, she couldn’t form words. This is the first year that I really realized she’s probably dyslexic. I hadn’t thought she was because she learned her alphabet fine etc. But after seeing Susan Barton’s stuff, I realized she definitely wasn’t getting it. So I was able to borrow the levels from a friend and it’s been slow going but she is finally getting it and able to read! It really is amazing for those who struggle with these kinds of learning disabilities. Blessings to you as well.
It’s great that you can borrow the Barton levels! Mum has bought all the levels (at least, up to the place we are at right now–which is Level 4). Glad she’s getting it now, too!
God bless,
Esther
(joyful-maiden.blogspot.com)
What a wonderful post! It is truly written beautifully, from a mother’s heart! As mothers we truly must encourage our children through the difficulties they have now, for as they grow they do not go away! Stoppin by from the Life in Bloom Link Up 🙂
Thanks for stopping by from Life in Bloom. I appreciate your words.
This is wonderful Alia…. I wish we would have been aware of Josh and Annas struggle with reading long ago. I actually never even heard of it when they were young. Kaia is blessed indeed to have a Mom who cares and is helping her to overcome. I absolutley love books and reading…. so want everyone to experience the joy of reading stories. Keep up the good work.
Thanks Ruth. I think we’re so blessed to have the resources we do these days to teach kids in alternative ways and not in a one size fits all way. Because even in my years of teaching Judah and Kaia, there are night and day differences and what one loves, the other hates and vice versa. And yes, the joy of story is a beautiful treasure. I’m glad to have so many book lovers in my life. 🙂 Miss you guys. We’ll have to get together soon.
I, too, have a husband who talks about the struggles growing up when no one knew. A loving family, just not the tools to see what was going on and to help. He’s turned out great (like your awesome husband). But he’s so happy to see his children learning the way that works for their brains. Those tiles are very familiar objects here.
For Eli, our help has come in making sure he has things to do that don’t require reading (like the year he did gymnastics, getting him the snake for his birthday, lots of books on CD like you mentioned, more experiences really than our other kids get). That seems to really help.
Your Kaia is so sweet. So creative. So full of life. Love her.
Thanks Brooke, she adores you and I’ve loved watching her come out of her shell in your class. Most of the time she’s so confident and stoic even in her timid little ways but every once in awhile I really see the frustration get to her. But we’ve found that art, really anything cutting or pasting or painting or gluing makes her flourish. She is very creative and she can communicate through her “projects.” I pretty much give her free reign in creating. Which is something I never did when Judah was little and those things have helped too. It’s also nice for me to connect with other mothers like you and Heidi who have kids a bit older than Kaia and who struggle with similar issues. And yes, we have pretty amazing hubbies. 🙂
Absolutely beautiful!!! My daughter struggled/s too. While many things don’t come easy for her in life, and not because she doesn’t have natural ability, she does, she has learned to work very hard at whatever she wants to do. There’s a flip side to every coin, as they say. 🙂
I loved it all, but my favorite is this line:
” But know that the struggle is building up stamina and endurance and flames are easy to douse but coals burn through the night and rise again to blaze on.”
Kara, it’s so true that even with natural ability, hard work is what brings out that appreciation for the results. I know that the struggle with help my daughter appreciate the end result. Everything I have ever had to work for in life has been more valued than those things which I excelled so swiftly at that I hardly took notice of the ability at all. Thanks for stopping by here. Love your last post on the curse. Beautiful.
hot tears gathering at the corners …
i’m sharing this bit of hope and grace with someone special in my world.
thanks, friend …
I love the way you love your children. Of course she loves to read because words matter to you. You are such an inspiration Alia.
I dare say this is the dearest post you’ve ever written.