“Dear Casey” that’s how my mother would always read to me. No matter what book we were reading my mother would always start our bedtime story with “Dear Casey”. I was three years old at the time. For three years my mother would always start off the story with “Dear Casey”. For three years I learned the essentials of reading. Just in three years I learned how to read. By the age of six I was able to read a book. I was able to read a book all by myself. In fact I loved to read when I was a young child. I loved story time, and I loved to learn. I learned by mother, she taught me the essentials, she taught me how to read. My mother was really good at teaching me, I learned from her the best. Between the ages of three and six I began my journey…show more content… I learned how to listen the first year of reading. The second year of reading I began to sound out words and comprehend individual words I read. In this third year on this journey to becoming a reader on my own, I learned how to read sentences. Just like the previous years, it was difficult at first but I got through it. It took time, everything takes time. With hard work and commitment to success I was able to read sentences. And throughout each year my mother would always buy me bigger books, with bigger words. That was a challenge for me, but I got through it. By the age of five I was able to read sentences in bigger books, and was able to semi comprehend what I was reading.
Age Six- Like I said I was very fast learner. By the age of six I was able to read words and comprehend them. I was able to read sentences and understand them. I was able to read. By the age of six, my mother no longer said “Dear Casey” but I would say “Dear Mother”. Instead of her reading to me and me listening. I was reading to her and she was listening. I was a slow reader like my mother was, that was how I was taught, but I was still able to read by age six, which to me, and to my mother was impressive. My mother was the parent who did all the school work with her children, my father was the one that would always toughen me up. How I saw it was that my mother would always teach me to be book smart, while my father taught me to be street smart. As I said before my mother…show more content… Smith. My mother gave me ideas on what to write and how to write what was on my mind but it was ultimately Mrs. Smith. It was her job as a teacher, to teach me basic life skills; learning how to write. Mrs. Smith gave me the pencil and paper to write what was on my mind. As I stated earlier I was a pretty quick learner, however, in this instance in writing I was not. It took me quite a while to learn how to write, but when I did I sure was good at it. It took me awhile because of my lack in interest in it. At first I thought of no point in writing. My point of view was that I’m in Kindergarten and I like to read much more than I liked to write. I would try and write every time I got that pencil and paper but nothing would come out of it except for five or six misspelled words in my first sentence. Mrs. Smith was the one that taught me the value in writing. She taught me how important it was to write and how fun it can be. As soon as she did that I was off on my way. The day that Mrs. Smith told me that what I wrote could be anything I wanted it to be than that was the day that I valued writing myself and enjoyed it. I would always write about how my day was or how the weekend was or even about my closest friends and family. I wrote because writing now made me happy and it was meaningful to me. Instead of me reading stories, I began writing them and