Growing up, I assumed all homes had books filled from top to bottom with books. At least it was at my house so I believed all were the same. I have so many fond memories that included books and the love of reading. But they also include my mum. She is a mother that set a great example to her children of the wonder of books. How they can open up new worlds, capture our imagination with a whimsical story, or even a great way to spend a snowy afternoon indoors. We were read to every day until we could read on our own, and then we took over and our bedtime routine always included reading to ourselves until it was time for sleep. My mum’s relaxing time in the evening was always at her spot in the living room with her book. There was always one on the go. We never questioned why she read. Thanks to my mum we always knew.