My father loved words. He had a poet’s soul and made words important. He brought a new word to the dinner table and if my brother and I didn’t know it, we were excused from the table until we looked it up and used it in a sentence. Sounds harsh but it inspired both of us to pursue new vocabulary. My father would have enjoyed the J Street Journals yesterday when we wrote about our favorite words.
My father also instilled a love of words in my brother and me. When we were in elementary school, Dad was finishing his doctorate, so he liked to practice on us, quizzing us on word meanings and teaching us a little Latin. I found it fun.
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