John Doe – anonymity is important to this story – grew up in rural Saskatchewan during the Dirty Thirties.
As a youth, he found work as a hired hand on a prairie farm. Years stretched into decades, and upon retirement in his 60s, John had saved enough to buy a house trailer in a small Alberta town.
Then he did a courageous thing. He contacted a literacy organization so he could be assigned a tutor. John wanted to learn how to read.
It is nearly incomprehensible that a person could survive in modern times without literacy skills, but John was of a different era.
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He got by using the strength of his body while doubting the strength of his own intelligence.
John and I crossed paths when I became his tutor. We met for one evening each week at his home and we began with A is for apple and B is for bird. We had a bright light over the kitchen table and the soft glow of the television in the corner.
“I’m sorry that I’m so stupid,” he would say, when he couldn’t remember a letter and my impatience would show.
One evening, as we were working our way through the sounds of the alphabet, a pick-up truck pulled into John’s driveway.
Completely agitated, John hurriedly threw all our books under the couch and rustled up some empty coffee cups and Peek Freans.
“It’s a friend of mine,” he told me. “Tell him you’re my niece.”
I hadn’t realized until then that his inability to read was an embarrassing secret that he’d been keeping all his life, even from his friends. Imagine the effort that must have taken. Imagine the cost to John’s self-esteem.
I made myself scarce that evening, and we carried on with tutoring the following week. By then I had a new understanding of his challenge and new respect for his effort.
Family literacy day was Jan. 27, which reminded me of John. Our ways parted before he learned basic reading, but I have no doubt he reached his goal.
I hope so, because the gift of reading is a treasure beyond price. We take it for granted.
See Barb’s blog at producer. com.
