Last page of the (final!) book.
Seven books in five precious years.
This joint reading effort was a labor of LOVE and JOY and MAGIC and literacy PROFICIENCY that began when Chica was a fresh, seven-year-old…and culminated yesterday, just shy of her twelfth birthday.
For the epic ending of this final book, the only way to do it all justice was to read in a couple of marathon sessions.
About two hours last Sunday.
Then, another two yesterday.
Not gonna lie, I shed some tears—and Chica did, too!—during several of the pivotal scenes, and it was just glorious to close out this amazing reading experience as we launched this new summer…so many summers after we first began.
Little Man heard us hollering after we’d finish it all, and came rushing into Chica’s bedroom with the sweetest, most supportive smile on his face.
And then he proceeded to help us—and hinder us, in equal measure, ha—with our finale photo shoot.
I’ve waxed poetic so often about this journey of ours that I’m a broken record at this point. But I can’t say enough incredible things about…
The love of reading this endeavor encouraged…
The imagination and play this magical world unleashed…
The feelings of belonging, ownership and inclusion in a global phenomenon…
The irreplaceable bonding time of parent and child snuggling with story…
And the sheer power of words and literacy.
Harry helped my eldest seed her lifelong LOVE of reading.
Just like it continues to help Chicklet and Little Man.
And I’m so grateful—for all of it.
Every. Last. Page.
(And, yes, we absolutely watched the final movie.)
If you’re feeling weepy and nostalgic like I am, here are some of the past Harry posts, but certainly not all of them:
(And, yes, we absolutely watched the final movie.)
If you’re feeling weepy and nostalgic like I am, here are some of the past Harry posts, but certainly not all of them:
Happy First Sunday of Summer, peeps!
Over and out.
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