Lindie Heeralall

The rain is falling heavy today and the sky is dark. I love it. It is the best time for thinking, going inwards, remembering. It takes me back to a memory.

The toasty smell of pencil shavings in the classroom was comforting. She sat at her desk and opened the book and I stood next to her and read. I was 5. The pictures were painted in soft colours. Pale green hills, tumbling grey clouds, and a red lorry trundling up the lane. She smiled and gave me a lemon boiled sweet. It was the first time I felt good about something I could do. I could read. And it was good.

I would love to hear your earliest memories of reading. Do you remember the first story you read?