Story time

I'm of a generation that thinks there are few better ways to pass a rainy afternoon than to curl up with a good book. I thank my mom for this.

Most nights, right after dinner, she would settle on the living-room couch with a couple of us kids and read "Winnie the Pooh" or "The Wind in the Willows." I remember thinking how important reading must be. After all, Mom would put off doing the dinner dishes so she could spend that time with us. Not much came between my mother and her household chores.

Today I stopped by a local library and felt again that pull a good book has on a day when it's just too cold to spend much time outdoors. As I browsed through the stacks, I got to thinking of the grandchild who, at age 3, is already adept in the use of an iPad. I've watched him poking the screen with his little fingers, sliding them back and forth until he finds what he's looking for. I wonder what sort of gadgets he'll learn to use by the time he's my age.

I heard this grandchild's dad reading to him a few days ago. It made me smile. I hope this little guy, this child of the digital age, will come to treasure those moments as he sits beside his dad on a couch in the den and listens to stories -- stories told with paper and ink in the voice of a father who loves him so much.