I was not yet four years old when his passion for letters took possession of me.
not for literature, of course, but for the letters, all letters dell'abecedario. With the curiosity that a child can have for personal belongings of his brother, many times I went rummaging in my folder, when he was out intent to play with friends. I was fascinated by that strange instrument, obviously, for me it was just a series of colored drawings, and absolutely determined to investigate more about those things called letters. I was told a story, a beautiful and mysterious to me, according to which that thing was used to make words.
So the idea of \u200b\u200bbuilding of words, endless words, all with quell'attrezzo that became a fixed idea in my little mind, or rather, a game that I play so much. What I did not know was still read, for me, an insignificant detail. I had the time and want more, then, first of all, this was the most urgent priorities that I felt it was necessary to find a way to have one all to myself. So I insisted that my I recovered a copy a bit 'askew and worn, but as I remember, full and colorful. I was happy. Every afternoon, on the steps of the house, my coveted units, the primer and, quite by chance, according to inspiration, so to speak, I took a tot of variable letters and places them side by side to make the WORD.
Not being able to read, I was not able to independently assess the results of my tests, then, each time, after having prepared meticulously and with great respect to each of them, ran from his mother and asked her to come and read me what I had written. ... Read more ...
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