I heard a charming report on the French news on Sunday. White coated “doctors” in Paris prescribed specific poems to “patients” according to their “symptoms.” There were other events throughout the city designed to encourage love of reading, specifically reading aloud.
Today’s expression, lire à haute voix (leer a oat vwah), means to read aloud. It was Mother’s Day yesterday where I live and that made me think of what I owe to my Mom. She spent hours reading to me, made sure our home environment was rich in books, and listened to me read aloud when I was painfully sounding out one word after another. She thought it was important to know poetry also and used to pay me to memorize poems from A Child’s Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson! I still remember some of them. I may never have developed an abiding love of poetry as a result, but reading books has continued to enrich my life. Thanks Mom.