By Kathy Berken
Some 60 years ago, my mother brought me home. I don’t mean just from the hospital. I mean home to myself.
She set up the Victrola on the dining room table, helped me crank it, and put on a 78 that played “Tarzan and the Apes.” Listening to those stories brought me home to my imagination.
She took me to the library where I would sit on the floor looking for big picture books, lugging home as many as I could carry. My mother brought me home to the love of books.
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