Reading Autobiography

As I look back in my life I can recall my first memories of reading were as a small child lying in my mother’s bed and my mother reading to both my sister and me. My mother took this opportunity every afternoon reading to us and spending some quality time with us before bed. She had so many patients with us and motivated us to learn so much. As our primary language is in English all our stories read to us were in English.
My mother was the one who always influenced both my sister and me when it came to reading and learning as much as we could. Family time consisted of every afternoon gathering together in my mom’s bedroom lying on the bed reading a story. A new story started by my mom reading it to us. After a few times of hearing the story, I would then read the story to my mother and sister. This allowed enough

I always had a story-telling imagination and I can remember just grabbing a notebook and writing my story as it came to me. I would add drawings to go my story and try to make it more vivid. My mom’s younger sister saw my interest in reading and drawing began to send me what I called hand me down books that her daughter would read. My aunt never failed to throw in some art supplies with the books so I could enjoy my time drawing. I remember how much I enjoyed lying on the sofa during the summer time and getting caught up in a good book. My joy for reading at times would interfere with my chores which lead to getting in trouble at times. During this time-frame of age, the chore list began to grow along with my responsibilities. I kept busy between school, my chores, and watching after my sister and helping her with her homework. Slowly my pleasure for reading stopped also due to a limited access to books. During this time my parents were having financial problems so the only books we had access to at home were when my aunt gave us my cousins hand me down reading