Little Ginger didn't care too much about reading books. Sure, we had books in our home. And I can remember flipping through the pages of stories that were given to me (or passed down to me - since I am the youngest of four girls). But I never had that passion, as I do now, to want to open a book and lose myself within the story. I think I was more about coming up with the stories when I was young.
I do remember playing make believe with random objects I found lying around. Yes, there were stories about hair brushes and water bottles. My imagination went crazy apparently when my mom would braid my hair. I also remember building little villages in the dirt, creating a world among rocks and twigs.
Opening a book, reading a story, changed my path.
So that's the last 32 years of my life, when it comes to reading & books. I can only imagine what lies ahead... what stories I'll dream up next, and which paths will unearth themselves to me, simply because I've found a love in reading.