Henry started telling me about Sarah, Plain and Tall a few days ago. He asked me if I had read it, and I told him I hadn’t.

He started describing it to me, but couldn’t quite find the words. He brought it up a few more times…not saying much, but I could tell it had made an impression on him.

He brought it home today, and had to answer some questions about it for homework. When he was done, he handed it to me and said “here. Since you were wanting to read it.”

I took it and looked at it, setting it aside.

“You should read it, since you wanted to know what happens,” he tells me.

So, I start reading it while he moves on to another book for his reading minutes. Before long, he asks me where I am, and when he sees that I’ve just finished the first chapter, gives me a quiz.

“Okay, mama. Question one. Why did he keep asking about his mom?”

“Because he’d never met her.”

“Correct.”

I read on some more, as I’d started getting into the story and the beautiful storytelling.

As he heads to bed, he starts to take it out of my hand.

“No, I’m going to finish it. Is it a series?” I ask him.

“I’m not sure” he says, and tells me that he finished it, and there was, indeed, an ending.

“Okay,” he starts in, “you can read it but I have to take it back to school tomorrow.”

So I finish the book after he’s gone to bed, moved by the story, yes, but also the connection between us now.

It’s the first time he’s recommended a book to me, and the first time I’ve read a story that he’s already finished.

I hope it’s the first of many.