Lisa Rose Bauer

Nothing ensures the success of the child more in the society than being read to from infancy to young adulthood. Reading books to and with children is the single most important thing a parent, grandparent, or significant adult can do.

Anita Silvey – author, editor, and literary critic of children’s literature.

The trio rode the 7:53 a.m. train from the Sharon depot. Hundreds of commuters rode that same train to Boston every day. Most were solo beginning work on laptops and phones even before 8:00 a.m. Amidst the sea of commuters the trio stood out. Way out. I watched them day after day. 

The dad and his two young sons engaged in a routine that never seemed to fail them. They sat in the same area of the same train car. Once settled in, the dad pulled a book from the stroller’s basket below and began to read to his boys. Sometimes the same book was read over and over. Seeing this scene unfold was a first in all of my years of commuting on the train. Seeing it day after day was nothing short of extraordinary.  

The boys, enthralled in the day’s story, nestled into their dad. They held his hand or comfortably leaned on his shoulder. The dad energetically animated the sounds of growling monsters, barking dogs, and roaring lions. Unknowingly, he fully captivated the commuters listening in while smiling to themselves and nodding in approval in awe of this dad.  

The father’s unwavering attention to his sons paid hefty dividends. His two boys were calm and centered. Never upset or bored, there appeared a certain harmony to their routine. As we approached our mutual stop at Ruggles, the dad prepared his sons for departure. Depending on the season, dinosaur hats, monster mittens, puffy snow jackets, and boots were tended to. Or sandals, backpacks, and sun hats. And always – the books.

The dad always had everything under control long before the stop. After gathering the boys’ belongings with one child in the stroller and the other in tow, they exited the train. I learned that their destination was a childcare center on the campus where the dad worked. On particularly busy or rainy mornings, I found myself lagging behind to ensure that the older boy was following along in the bustle.

Once while waiting for our stop, I shared with the dad how incredible it was to watch his boys so engaged and connected. He smiled and thanked me, sharing that one day he knew his sons would no longer welcome being read to. He seemed to make early peace with the knowledge that this time together would change, would evaporate.

I no longer ride the train to Boston. I no longer cross paths with the dad and his boys. But they do cross my mind, that young family on the train. And I imagine them years and years in the future. The boys as grown men and fathers themselves, as they accompany their elderly father to a medical appointment in Boston. The dad is sleepy and bows his head to rest. Then, one son pulls out a book from his backpack and begins to read aloud. The dad brightens, and relaxes, at the sound of his son’s calm voice. The other son takes his father’s hand and holds it on his lap. 

I continue imagining that their train stop is next. The sons rise to help their dad with his coat and hat just as he did for the boys so many years before. As the train comes to a stop, the book is tucked away for a next train ride or porch visit in hopes of many more next times.

May your next time reading be on a near horizon. May you always bring reading into the lives of the people around you, especially children. Print books. Audiobooks. Soft books. Board books. May each book enrich the reader and the listener inspiring and touching their hearts and minds forever.