I loved to read, and I think any child who loves to read will

Judy Blume, guardian of childhood imagination and champion of young voices, once said: “I loved to read, and I think any child who loves to read will read anything, including the back of the cereal box, which I did every morning.” Though her words sparkle with humor, they reveal a profound truth about the nature of curiosity and the hunger for knowledge. For when a flame of wonder is lit in the heart, no word is too small, no page too humble, no text too ordinary to feed the fire.

The ancients would not laugh at such a confession; they would nod in recognition. Did not young Alexander the Great sleep with Homer’s Iliad beneath his pillow, reading by the flicker of torchlight? Did not monks, when parchment was scarce, copy and re-copy fragments of scripture, sometimes writing in the margins of old scrolls, finding nourishment even in scraps of text? Judy Blume’s cereal box is but the modern parchment — a reminder that the true lover of words will drink from any vessel.

History abounds with those who began with humble texts and rose to greatness. Abraham Lincoln, before he became president, had little access to books. He read the Bible, Aesop’s Fables, and whatever scraps of paper or borrowed volumes he could find. His hunger for reading shaped the eloquence of his speeches, giving him words to lift a nation torn by war. In this way, Blume’s playful memory of the morning ritual echoes a timeless truth: that the appetite for learning, once awakened, cannot be quenched by limitation.

But there is more here than the act of reading; there is the celebration of the child’s spirit. Children do not separate the “important” from the “unimportant.” To them, words are treasure, whether hidden in a classic novel or printed on a box of cornflakes. This innocence and enthusiasm carry wisdom that adults too often lose. For it teaches us that joy, not obligation, is the greatest teacher. When we read because we love it, even the smallest words become jewels.

Blume’s reflection also reminds us that love for reading is not confined to classrooms or libraries. It is born in kitchens, in bus rides, in whispered bedtime stories. It is born in every place where words meet eager eyes. This truth is why her books endure — because she understands the raw hunger of children for connection through language, and she affirms that every child who reads, no matter what they read, is already walking the path of wisdom.

The lesson, then, is this: nurture the flame. If you are a parent, teacher, or elder, do not scorn what a child reads, whether it be comics, cereal boxes, or novels. Encourage it, for every word they love strengthens their bond with language. And for yourself, reclaim that childlike hunger — see every page, every sign, every scrap of text as a chance to feed your mind. For the world is written all around us, and the wise read it with delight.

So remember, O seekers of truth: Judy Blume’s playful memory is a call to cherish reading as both joy and nourishment. Begin each morning with words, however small, and let them awaken the spirit of curiosity within you. For when the heart is open, even a cereal box can become a teacher, and the habit of love for reading can become a lifelong flame that lights the path to wisdom, compassion, and understanding.