By Zarah C. Gagatiga
With the publication of my newest books for children, Disaster Ready Kids and Filipino Folkstories for Children: Stories of Wisdom and Wonder, I have been given another chance to bring stories closer to children. Author visits and storytelling sessions have allowed me not just to share these books, but also to connect with young readers in meaningful ways. For me, the book does not end on the printed page; it begins to live fully when read aloud, retold, and received by the imaginations of children.
Storytelling has always been both art and bridge. In schools, libraries, and community halls, I have seen how a story can make a child’s eyes light up, how laughter or wonder can ripple across a group. With Disaster Ready Kids, I hope to equip children with both knowledge and courage in the face of emergencies. With Filipino Folkstories for Children: Stories of Wisdom and Wonder, I hope to preserve and celebrate our cultural memory, so that children may inherit the wisdom, humor, and resilience of our ancestors. Each book is a small seed that, when nurtured, can grow into empathy, imagination, and strength.
But literacy is not only about reading and writing. It is about belonging. Every time I sit with children in a storytelling circle, I see how stories create a space of equality. The child who struggles to decode words can still listen, imagine, and contribute. The quiet child finds courage to ask questions. The child with many worries finds comfort in the shared rhythm of words. In this way, storytelling becomes an act of inclusion, reminding us that literacy is a right, not a privilege.
I believe in the power of collaboration. Writers, librarians, teachers, and advocates all work together to cultivate a culture where children feel that books are companions, not requirements. This is why the mission of Binhi resonates with me: it recognizes that literacy grows best when rooted in communities, tended by many hands. My books may be the tools, but it is the community that ensures children have access, encouragement, and joy in reading them.
As I continue my journey as a writer and storyteller, I carry both gratitude and hope. Gratitude for the children who remind me why stories matter, and hope that every child in the Philippines will one day hold a book that feels like it was written for them. To plant seeds of literacy is to plant seeds of a brighter, kinder future. And like any gardener, I know that if we nurture these seeds together, with patience, creativity, and love, they will surely grow.