When Carl was 2, his mother read him children's stories before tucking him in. Then he was too young to understand anything about the stories, but he liked it. The mother's voice was better than any lullabies.
The mother often had tons of workload in the office and needed to continue to work after office hours. She was always exhausted when it was around 10 o'clock at night, but reading Carl stories was the last job in a day – and also the most important, however silly those children's stories were.
Gradually, those words from the mother lips started to take shape in various forms – castles, forests, monsters, unicorns, princesses, witches… – a wonderland was thus created by the mother and it drifted into Carl's dreams every night.
Carl is 10 now and he loves to read. Reading is such a major part in his life that he can't sleep without doing some reading. He knows that there are more than just castles or monsters hidden in sheets of paper.
Many parents think money can buy their children knowledge. It can't always. Love can.
*Carl is not his real name.