Seven year old Taz has struggled with reading. I haven't been sure if it was a question of readiness on his part, or a poor fit between his style and the programs I'd been using, or some combination of the two; but we've valiantly stuck it out together, coming at it from a variety of angles, and he is finally, really reading.
Not struggling; not guessing: Reading.
He's not ready for chapter books by any stretch of the imagination, and he needs lots and lots of practice; but his confidence is booming, and it's such a delight to see!
Taz and I were chatting last night, and -- I don't remember the context, but it wasn't this -- I threw the word "perseverant" out at him. "Do you know what that means?" I asked him.
He nodded enthusiastically. "Sure. 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.' Like with my reading. I have to be perseverant. Right, Mom?"
It really surprised me. Reading time has often been hard, even almost unpleasant at times. (Switching to games has helped. And focusing on sight words, since he's quick to pick them up; and that got him started reading when he couldn't see the patterns and the "rules" weren't making any sense.) For him to have such a philosophical take on it seems surprisingly ... mature.
A priest once told the Chief, "Don't ask God for patience with your children. Ask Him to let you know their hearts."
Last night I learned a little something of the Hope that is in my little boy's heart. And yes, Taz. You are so right!