Editor’s Note: For privacy reasons, names and certain details have been changed. These stories are shared by former houseparents who have served at various children’s homes to offer insight, encouragement, and prayer for those considering this role. To respect the privacy of the children in these stories, we use artistic depictions rather than real photos.

The Power of Storytime: How Reading Created Connection

written by Mariah Blalock, House Parent

In our home, story time was sacred. It wasn’t a structured event or something we planned—it was just part of life. Every night, my husband would settle into his recliner with our little ones, a four-year-old boy and a two-year-old girl, nestled into his lap, hanging onto every word as he read aloud.

Our older foster sons, 15 and 10 at the time, were supposed to be off doing their own thing—free time, hanging out, whatever they wanted. But little by little, we noticed them drifting closer.

At first, they never said a word. No one called attention to it. But over time, without fail, they would lean over the back of the recliner, glancing at the pictures, listening to the stories. They were drawn to something they had never really experienced before.

We never pointed it out because we didn’t want to embarrass them, but we saw what was happening. We made sure they always had opportunities to hear the books, to be nearby, to experience storytime without feeling like it was something “immature” or “not for their age.”

The 15-year-old mostly stayed in the background, just listening. He had missed so much school before living with his grandparents in fourth grade—no one had cared if he got there or not. Reading wasn’t something he had been given the chance to love.

But the 10-year-old? He jumped right in.

He was still young enough to build confidence in reading, and he was proud of his ability. Before long, he wasn’t just listening—he was reading to the little ones, mimicking the same storytelling voices my husband used. He took the role seriously, and in his mind, he was an expert.

Looking back, I wish I could have done even more. If I knew it wouldn’t have embarrassed them, I would have asked them to pick out books they liked. I would have given them the chance to experience not just hearing stories but choosing them.

I knew early on what was happening because of my experience, my training. But even if I hadn’t, it was clear—this wasn’t just storytime. This was something they had longed for, something they never knew they had missed.

That’s the thing about books. They aren’t just pages and words. They are connection, belonging, safety. And for two boys who had spent their childhood without those things, simply being read to was more powerful than we could ever put into words.

A Prayer of Gratitude: Heavenly Father, we thank You for the small, quiet moments that create deep and lasting impact. We pray for children who have never known the simple joy of being read to, that they may find comfort and belonging in places of love. Lord, may we always recognize the opportunities to fill in the gaps of what has been missing in their lives. May we be patient, kind, and intentional as we guide them toward healing and hope.

Father, we also ask that You bring willing and faithful house parents to fill the empty homes in our ministry. May You call couples who have a heart for these children, who are ready to love and nurture them just as You love us. We trust in Your provision and ask for Your continued guidance.

We pray in Jesus’ Name. Amen.