I didn't do much formally with Christopher in kindergarten. I didn't enroll him in any program. He was not ready to learn to read. He was still running his trucks under the table as Audrey and I worked on her lessons. We did simple science experiments and I read to him. I taught him to read the next year using Samuel Blumenfield's wonderful Alpha Phonics. I remember the day we were on the page that starts with "am", and then goes on to "S am", "h am", and then "d am". He would not say the last one, as he thought it was the bad word. How's that for character? I can still recall the day he put it all together. I could almost see it forming in his head. He was gleeful. I think that teaching my children to read is one of the greatest joys of my life. Even though Christopher learned to read quite well, he still does not like to read most fiction. He likes to read for information. The only author he enjoys for historical fiction is Patricia St. John. The Christmas that he was eleven, I was reading aloud from The Christmas Stories of Patricia St. John. One story was about an eleven year old homeless boy in Morocco who finds Christ through the love of a missionary nurse. Christopher was visibly delighted and inquired if the story was an excerpt from a "whole" book. I said "yes", and he begged for that book. He began reading it immediately, and has read two more of her books. He did not enjoy learning to write, and that, combined with his dislike of fiction, did not make book reports enjoyable. He even hated Treasure Island.