When I was studying in Singapore (Primary 3), I would love visiting my great uncle Chee. I was always fascinated how he had such a strong command of the English language like my dad. Back then, I still had a Singlish accent ^.^
Walking along the bungalow terrace, I was captivated as he would speak with sage wisdom. Always, without fail, he would give me a gift before I left his house. A book. At that age, I was reading slightly above my age, but nothing spectacular.
The books he would give me would range from Kungfu to Politics. I would struggle to read them because they were rather theoretical and consequentially dense, but I knew he would ask me if I read it and what I thought of them. The next time I saw him, I would have some form of an answer ready. It was not the greatest, mind you, but an answer nonetheless. He probably pushed my reading level better than anyone. The questions he asked I didn't understand, they went way over the head of an 8 year old kid. In an effort to not feel stupid, I'd have to ask him to explain what he meant in numerous ways before I got it. His love of reading and curiosity ended up being passed onto me.
Uncle Chee was a journalist. The books he gave me have vanished with the uncountable moves, but the impact he's had on my life is immeasurable.
By grade 5, my favorite book was Bitter Grounds, a 500+ page beast of a historical fiction novel. My parents restricted me from TV as much as possible, so each library visit was like bonus stockpiling in my war against boredom.
I used to love reading. In fact, in many ways, I still do. Though my reading preferences have changed over the years, you can still occasionally catch a glimpse of me running around Vancouver with a book in my hand. Thanks Uncle Chee :)
A blog on my continuing journey through life, covering self-development and success strategies, but also personal reflection.