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Before my little sister and I were old enough to go to school, it was our big sister who read to us, not every day, but whenever we could persuade her. She was only four years older than I was.
When we lay in bed at night, waiting to fall asleep, we could hear the program on the radio our mom and dad were listening to in the living room. Sometimes we heard a train chuffing along the railway track across the vast field behind our house.