One of my fondest childhood memories is of gathering with my siblings around the ironing board and listening to my mother tell us stories.

There, while she ironed my dad's work shirts, I learned of Little Red Riding Hood's treacherous walk through the woods, of the brazen Goldilocks and, most memorably, of Pete and Tony, two mischievous youngsters whose boyhood escapades sprang from my mother's own imagination. (With 10 sons of her own, my mother knew a great deal about boyhood adventures.)

Telling these tales, Mom's voice — usually full of authority — would soften as she took on the persona of the people and animals in the story. My favorite was her portrayal of the Big Bad Wolf in "The Three Little Pigs." Lowering her voice, she would suck in her breath and puff out her cheeks, "I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down!"

These storytelling sessions around the ironing board, coupled with daily bedtime reading, gave me a deep and long-lasting appreciation for a well-told tale.

Today, many parents continue to share their favorite books with their children, although we often have to compete with far glitzier forms of electronic entertainment.

Despite the glitz, though, I am always touched by how children, no matter what the age, remain drawn to someone reading a story.

At the library this past summer, I watched as children nudged their way toward a woman reading one of my children's favorites, Eric Carle's "The Very Hungry Caterpillar." There, the children sat and listened, lulled by the woman's voice, as they heard how a caterpillar ate its way through a feast of sweets before spinning a cocoon to wait for its transformation to a butterfly.

When my own children were in elementary school, reading was encouraged both at home and in school. I read to them most every night, and in school, silent, sustained reading was part of their daily routine.

I can still recall how my son, now 22, listened attentively as his fifth grade teacher read out loud Gary Paulsen's "Hatchet," the tale of a young boy who finds himself alone in the Canadian woods after the pilot of the small plane he is on dies of a heart attack.

With only a small hatchet to assist him, the main character, Brian, who lived in New York City, learns to rely on his own ingenuity to survive.

Each day after school, my son shared with me Brian's harrowing adventures in the wilderness. Although these fifth graders could read independently, they still enjoyed being read to.

Listening to someone read a story out loud creates a bond between the reader and the listener, one that they can take with them into adulthood, just as I fondly recall my mother's stories around the ironing board.

Literature engages the imagination in ways that television and the electronic media cannot. Reading is active, creative; TV requires little more than absorbing what others have produced.

Today marks the beginning of National Children's Book Week, an annual celebration of children's literature, an opportunity to remind ourselves of the importance of reading to our children and of the pleasure inherent in well-told tales.

Linda K. Schmitmeyer is a freelance writer living in Middlesex Township. Her e-mail address is lks260@zoominternet.net.