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Reverend Hale

Essay by   •  December 12, 2011  •  Essay  •  859 Words (4 Pages)  •  671 Views

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Some kids want a Barbie or a doll for Christmas or birthdays; others would want a bike or toys. But for me all I wanted for a gift was books. I loved books; chapter books, picture books, even pop up books. I just loved to read. It came to the point where I would go to the library every two to three days because I was already finished with books I had. I would spend hours at that ugly looking library just to find the right ones. The sacrifices people make. I just grew up loving to read and accepting whatever challenging books came my way. This all started with one special book; never in my life will I forget how I got it.

When I was little not that many kids my age spent their time reading.5 and 6 years old spent their time watching TV. Or playing outside. So when I went to my dad's for the weekend, he says he has a surprise for me. When I get there I run inside and ask where my present is. He gives me a little hard, rectangular shape; wrapped in a bright blue wrapping paper with stars and crescent moons on it. I snatch it out of his hand and rip the paper off and what I see scares and confuses the heck out of me.

It's a book. The book cover was dark blue and had this awfully looking cat on it. The cat was tall and white; he had black stripes and an ugly looking red and white striped hat on. The tittle of the book was "The Cat in The Hat" by some author named Dr.Suess. The title alone confused me because cats don't wear hats, and he wasn't even in the hat so it made no sense, and he looked so scary that the book might as well have been titled "The Scary Cat in the Ugly Hat" I skim inside the book I see some ugly looking kids in the book to! I was thinking that, is there anything about this book that isn't ugly?

I look at my dad and hope that he was joking; to give up my real present. But he merely looks at me with only an amused and confused expression. But then, I'm thinking that he's trying hard not to laugh at me, that he is playing some sick joke.

I storm in to my room and slam the door closed. I hate this book; I hated books I general. I didn't like the cover; I don't like the ugly little character on it. I just hatted it. IV hated books ever since my 1st grade teacher; Ms. Apple made me read a book about a fish with colored scales in front of the whole class. There was one always one word or sentence that I could never read or sound out correctly. So when it came to that sentence, I couldn't say it. I started stuttering and the whole class made fun of me. So from that day, I never read a book.

I throw the book in the corner and lay down on my bed. The huge pillow practically overlapping my face with its many ribbons attached to it. I hear my door squeak open, I already know its my dad from the huge footsteps pounding on the floor. He asks me why am I upset, why I didn't like the book. I told him everything, finally peep a look at

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