A Childhood Memory

Reading was not optional in the home of my childhood, especially around holidays when time away from school left us free to read or be read to. My father, Brother Bill Boyer, 32°, insisted that his children be literate. To accomplish that goal, he set out to teach them, himself.

I was reading Mark Twain by the time I was five. I didn't always understand every detail, but I did have control of most of the words. I grew up in a house of books. Even today, I find it strange to walk into a home without books spilling out of bookcases, stacked next to chairs, piled on tables, filling every spare inch of space.

My father, who had no formal education beyond high school, designed his own plan to teach his sons and, later, a daughter to read. It combined phonics with seasonal appeal and a cash incentive. You had to read so many pages in a book of his approval, or there was no allowance that week. Before we reached the cash stage, however, there was Dad on the couch reading out loud each and every evening before bedtime.

This is where the seasonal appeal came in. He had collections of stories appropriate to each season of the year. Of course, Christmas was the best, and the countdown to Christmas Eve began when he got out the box of stories touching on every winter holiday tradition.

I've always suspected he had his own agenda. One of the stories—"The Christmas Pony" I think was its title—was all about a kid who wanted a pony for Christmas. Of course, he wanted everything else, too. His father explained to him that Santa would only grant three requests. That was okay, the kid responded. He only had one request, anyway. I don't remember if the kid got the pony. But the business about making only three requests of Santa became a permanent part of our family tradition. And I eventually used it on my kids, too. Thanks, Dad!

Those holiday memories, wrapped around books and Dad on the couch, are still a warm part of the holiday nostalgia for me today. In truth, reading ties us to our past and holds us to our present, even if it's something as simple as a newspaper. We also get a great deal of joy out of our reading. We read great books and trash. We read newspapers and labels. We read billboards and warning signs. Each, in its own unique way, has some sort of impact on our lives.

Can you imagine a life without literacy? I simply can't imagine being without the poetry of Benet or the elegant, measured prose of Catton and Boorstein. Not to mention the other tales that are so much a part of our lives, from Poe's ill-fated knight in search for El Dorado, to the mysteries of Holmes, Cadfael, Campion, and Whimsy. Reading enriches, informs, and influences all we do. It creates lifelong memories and becomes the bridge between generations. It is also central to our ability to communicate, which is an important part of the role of the 150 Scottish Rite Childhood Language Disorders Clinics, Centers, and Programs located throughout the Southern Jurisdiction. These facilities have helped tens of thousands of young people. Now, thanks to you, Brothers, these children can talk, read, and lead useful lives.

That is a holiday gift we, as Scottish Rite Masons, give to children every day! From all of the children we help to all of you who make that help possible, Happy Holidays!

William H. "Skip" Boyer has been writing since he was three. His mother objected to crayon on the walls, however, and set his career back several years. A member of the Scottish Rite Bodies of the Valley of Phoenix, Arizona, he serves as master of Paradise Valley Silver Trowel Lodge No. 29. A native of Nebraska, he is Director of Executive Communications for Best Western International and serves as the company's Executive Producer and Senior Writer. He is a fifth generation Master Mason.