“I won’t, I can’t!” screamed Matilin. The book that teacher had assigned her lay open and discarded on the floor. “Matilin Judith Fleat, you will control yourself!” roared the teacher. This child was getting on her nerves. The child positively refused to even look at a book. “You can’t make me read just anytime you want! If I wanted to read your STUPID, SMELLY, BOOK… then I would!” Matilin’s foot came down hard on the books spine Crack!! Matilin ran out of the room, her angry words fading with her footsteps. The book’s spine was broken in and a small footprint marked the damaged cover overlapping the beautifully written title: The Three Little Pigs. It was three days since Matilin had killed “The Evil Book” without pictures and no one had said a thing about her having to read so Matilin was naturally very suspicious when that teacher called her over to the book corner. “Matilin, I want to give you a present”, “That Teacher” said, “I want you to pick out a book from the shelf to keep as your very own!” “That Teacher” smiled, she seemed very pleased with her stupid, mean self! “And I don’t have to read it?” It was more a demand from the eight year old than a question. “Only read it if you want.” The Teacher smiled; maybe she wasn’t so bad after all. Matilin Turned and looked at each of the books. She was no fool. She would pick out a big book and show them all how smart she was. There it was. The book had a leather cover and a red ribbon to tie it closed. The title named it a collection of children’s stories. “I choose this one.” Matilin pointed to the beautiful dark spined book. “Are you sure? That one doesn’t have any pictures and there are a lot of words.” But, the child had made up her mind. The next morning as the teacher approached the door she noticed all the children were sitting attentively watching something. As she drew closer, a voice steady and rhythmic could be heard saying, “Roared the teacher this child was getting on her nerves.” Matilin sat, feat curled under her in the big reading chair. A large book lay open in her lap; a golden ribbon marked the page she read from “The child positively refused to even look at a book.” The words rolled out as if she was speaking from memory and not reading from a book. “That’s where I’ll stop for today.” she informed her rapt audience when she noticed the teacher standing in the doorway. “Good morning Miss. Ladezma.”, she said as she hopped out of the chair and walked to her seat. Miss. Ladezma smiled.
