My first reading experience with my mother

(This post was first published in Residual Matters)

I have no remembrance of any preschool books in my younger years, I don’t remember if my mother bought me even a single one. However, I do remember I get hold of ABAKADA (first reading publication in grade school) in my first grade.

My imagination was showing me an illustration of a mother and child having a journey through reading a simple Filipino alphabet, wearing happy faces as they seem to be. But the story that my mother once told me disrupted my thoughts.

All were left was a child crying. I didn’t know why I was crying then.

My mother told me, I cried because she was so mad because I couldn’t read the letter K so I asked her, and she didn’t like that I couldn’t read it. She was mad at me as much as she was mad at herself.

Because she also, can’t read some letters in the book. That’s what she told me later, when I was old enough to understand.

Of course, we didn’t believe her. The we are I and my two other sisters.

“How could that be? It’s just a simple K, I don’t think you can’t read it. You finished grade 2 at least you can read simple alphabet. Don’t be too hard on yourself mother.” my sister blurted.

“Okay, maybe I can read that. But I was too busy thinking how can I give you a decent meal instead of tutoring you with the things I didn’t even experience. When I was your age that time, I need to leave the classroom because I have to assist my father to plant seeds in the farm. While the kids my age was enjoying the school, I was farming.” cried my mother.