The penguin friend who inspires us to be brave

For the past 21 years, Germany has celebrated National Reading Day on the third Friday in November. The day focuses on the importance of reading for children's education and future opportunities. This year, Burda is once again supporting the initiative together with Stiftung Lesen, Die Zeit and Deutsche Bahn Stiftung with editorial contributions, free advertisements and its own reading events. Jennifer Schwengers, deputy editor-in-chief of LISA, and Dominik Schütte, editor-in-chief of Esquire, visited the Burda Bambini day-care centre in Offenburg and the Burda Bande in Munich to read to the children. Here, Jennifer reflects on her experiences. 

The gym at the day-care centre in Offenburg is hardly recognisable today: instead of mats, bars and bouncing balls, colourful beanbags are arranged in a circle on the floor. There's a big, cosy chair in the middle, where I've made myself comfortable with three books in my hands. A small lamp casts a warm glow over the room, and the atmosphere is inviting and calm. And, yes, I'm a little nervous. I regularly read aloud to my son at home - but reading to a group of children? That's new territory for me. I practised over the weekend, with Karl as my test audience, listening attentively as always and asking endless questions. As I sit here and wait, I'm wondering: How will the children respond to the stories?  

My thoughts are interrupted by a squeak. The gym door opens and a little girl in a pink dress steps in. She glances at me shyly, then at the colourful beanbags. "Sophia," reads the name on her badge. She hesitates, then slowly walks over and sits down on the red bean bag, a few feet away from me. I encourage her to come closer, but she stays where she is, looking down at the floor, then back at me. The door opens wider, and the carer steps into the frame and says, "Ah, there you are!" Sophia smiles timidly. One by one, the other children come in and sit down on the colourful cushions - the more confident ones in the front, the quieter ones in the back. All around me, I can hear it rustling and their chatter. One child says, "I want to sit there!" "I'm sitting here!" comes the reply from the other corner. The children make themselves comfortable, wiggling into their seats until they find a position they like. And then, just as quickly, silence falls. 

I clear my throat and introduce myself: "I'm Jennifer. I write for a magazine." As I begin to show them the books, their eyes widen with curiosity. I start with the first one, Ready to Soar by Cori Doerrfeld, my personal favourite of the books I brought today. It's the story of a little boy called Toni who desperately wants to make a paper aeroplane, but every animal he meets tells him it's impossible. Each one finds a different reason why it could never work.  

I begin to read aloud: page by page, I can feel the children being drawn into the story and rooting for Toni. As I turn the pages and show the illustrations, one boy shouts, "The parrot says it won't work!" and another adds, "The swan says the same!" I can hear the disappointment in their voices. At the same time, I sense that they haven't completely given up hope. They fidget in their bean bags, unable to sit still. I concentrate on the illustrations and ask them what else they can see in the pictures. Suddenly, one child shouts, "What happens next?" They want to know how the story continues.   

After a series of setbacks, little Toni meets a penguin who, unlike the others, encourages him to just try and throw the paper aeroplane. The children hold their breath. They arched their necks to catch a glimpse of the next page. Will it work or not? I turn the page and see the paper aeroplane flying through the air. "Yay! He did it!" the children cheer cheerfully. They clap and laugh. A happy ending. My heart warms. It's so touching to see how deeply they connect with the story. After the story, we chat a little. I ask the group, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" 

The answers come pouring in: "A football player!", "I want to be a mermaid!" and "I want to be a lifeguard!" it echoes from all corners of the gym. Even the shy girl in the from the beginning speaks up and says, "A firefighter". Then I ask the children who encourages them to follow their dreams and try new things. "My cousin!", "My sister!", "My friends!" they call out. A particularly quiet child in the front row says softly, "My mum always tells me, 'I believe in you. You can do it.'" I smile, glad to hear that the children are receiving such valuable support from home. 

We talk about how it feels to try something new. The children start to share: One tells the story of when she dared to jump from something high. Another girl says, "I was scared on our last holiday. I had to fly for the first time". She adds, "But I did it anyway". The boy in the front row joins in. He was afraid of the roller coaster at a theme park, but wanted to go so badly that he went anyway. Like the other children, he overcame his fear. They realise that it takes courage to try something new. I ask, "And how did you feel afterwards?" "Good!" they all shout. Everyone agrees: It feels good to try something new. 

Courage comes from the people who support us. It's the 'penguin friends' who encourage us to try new things. Talking to the children, I realise how important it is not only to give them courage through messages in stories, but also to support them in pursuing their dreams. 

"Reading creates the future - not just because it opens up new worlds, but because it teaches us that we can achieve anything if we believe in ourselves and have people to support us. The children here have understood that - and I am taking some valuable lessons home with me too.