The Importance Of My Love For Reading

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There are many instances in my life that shaped, formed, and helped me become who I am as a writer and a reader. There were certain teachers that got me interested in reading and later helped grow my love for reading. There were experiences that weren’t always so good but that didn’t make them insignificant to my development. Everything that I experienced could have had a different affect on another person. It may have even negatively affected them. However, in my case, because of how I was raised, me being an only child, I think it worked. Either way I’m grateful for those experiences now as a college student because those things that I learned throughout my K-12 years are helping me even now.
One of the earliest memories, the one I like to bring up the most in typical conversations with people my mother knows, is that my mother would actually make me cry when I was just a little kid learning how to write the letters of the alphabet. My
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The teacher I had was kind, funny, and she would read us books all the time. Up to that point, I had never had a teacher who made reading so much fun. She would read us these books that as a kid I found fascinating and riveting. There was one particular book that she read that I really enjoyed, it was called “Hank the Cowdog” and it was about a brown dog that was the sheriff of a farm and would solve any crime done on the farm, I mean what kid wouldn’t love that story. To top it all of she would read it in what presumably was the “Hank the Cowdog” voice. This was so important to my reading skills because I enjoyed the story so much that I wanted to read the rest of the books in the series and there happened to be many more to read. I contribute this to my love for reading because the way she read the books, the stories she would tell with her voice and her expressions, enticed me to want to read more stories and so I would continue reading, not because I had to, but because I wanted

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