I was born into a relatively large family for today’s standards. There are six of us altogether. I am the fourth of four children, or more commonly known as “the baby.” I’m sure some of you can relate to the wonderful perks and, yes, the inconveniences that come with being “the baby.”

My family was always extremely close and extremely active. Family hikes and bike rides, tree-house additions, lessons on still-life paintings, spotlight tag (A better known, upgraded version is Kick-the-Can in Indiana) were all common occurrences for the whole family. I’m almost certain I had no concept of the true meaning of boredom throughout my childhood. And, though being the youngest automatically granted me the sideline positions and cheap paint supplies, I didn’t seem to mind all that much. I was happy to be a helpful, little shadow; watching in awe of my older siblings abilities. I didn’t exactly get gobs of personal attention, but such is the life of the “baby” of three awesomely able and active older siblings.

My parents, however, must have spotted my subtle yearning for “me-time”, because they always made a point of securing a special stage for me at night. At the early end of every evening arrived my Bedtime. Once I’d brushed my teeth, put on pajamas, had my hair gently braided, I would begin my library search. The rest of the day would melt away, and then it would be just me, cocooned in the covers and ready to read; to drift along my mother’s or father’s voice into adventures with new and aged characters.

Bedtime was My time.  I had books and favorite books and more favorite books. I would make my parents read them over and over to me, and when my parents became sleepy I’d let them sit back, rest their eyes and simply turn pages while I recited every word from memory. When I was seven, I memorized Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod and recited it like poetry to my patient mother every night for months, inflection and all.

Though I have countless fond memories of my childhood, when I think of Bedtime, I’m right back in that special place.

Gretchen Schroeder
BookEnds Program Manager