I tried to find pictures which would depict the joy I find in reading. I didn’t expect to find a perfect one and I didn’t. But that just exactly proves my point.
When we read, we build a world in our minds, that of the book we are reading. But that picture is ours and ours alone. We can make it whatever we want. We can live, for a while, in that world, be a part of it. Escape our own existence.
That is why it happens so often than when a popular book is made into a film, there is an outcry about the choice of actors. Because whoever they chose would not be the ones we had in mind when we read the book. And even if they were, they would not be right for everyone else who read the book.
I have loved reading since I was very young – it really developed my imagination and I am sure that it helped with my analytical and problem-solving skills as well as my language proficiency. Most of all it gives me an endless possibility of worlds to inhabit for shorter and longer times.
I come from a country with a very high rate of illiteracy. So many millions of people cannot read a single word. Being able to read gives you a key to a universe of infinite magnitude. It is such a precious thing and I don’t think we stop and appreciate it enough. I give thanks almost every day for the gift of literacy.