Learning to read... Why was it so hard?

I remember when I was in the first grade and my teacher told the class, "You all will be learning to read this year." I'm not sure if i was excited or just didn't care but i never managed to learn to read/comprehend. why did they move me on? i'm not really sure. I had the same teacher for the second grade and that year he started a new reading system - there were 24 different tubs of books. the first tub had picture books, the second tub had mostly pictures and some words, the 10th tub was 1st grade reading which included more reading and less pictures, and if you could progress to the 24th tub you would be at 6th grade reading level. somehow, I never got past the 8th tub and what I didn't understand.
There was this kid in my class that the teacher had to make extra tubs for and by the end of the second grade he was on tub 32 (somthing like 8th grade reading level). I must have looked really stupid compared to him.
What people don't realize is that when I was in elementary school I was very very quiet. I was one of those kids at the grocery store that would hide behind their mother's leg if someone got too close. So, I mostly absorbed the world around me and I got through school that way. I mostly didn't do my homework and it drove my teachers crazy. I never ever volunteered to read out loud in class because i was afraid the other kids would laugh at me. Well, why wasnt I pushed in a direction of wanting to read. I hated reading and I couldn't understand how people could enjoy it (sometimes I still can't understand how people can sit down and read a whole novel for fun). It wasn't until I was a freshman in high school that I realized that I could read.
On september 11th 2002, I was sitting in my bedroom thinking about going back to Power House (Cedar Park's Youth Group). I hadn't been there in a while and I the affects of the 1 year aniversy of 9-11 were taking up much of my thoughts. Of course the obnoxious question had come up in my brain "If God love's us why would he let that sort of thing happen." Soon after that I had decided that I probably couldn't answer such a question. I'd looked over to see the clock...7:06. I ran exidedly down the stairs "MOM!!! Will you take me to Power House?!" I was suprized at my disapointment when she'd said no. "Next week then.." I mumbled as I walked away. When next week came I called the potter family to get a ride to power house. I don't remember what the message was but I do remember that whoever was speaking gave a call to pray the sinners prayer and afterward they said "If you said that prayer tonight then you are right with God...ect..."
The next day at school We were supposed to read a hand out about religions or somthing and I was staring at the sheet with discontent as always. The teacher had come over to me and said "you havn't answered any of your questions..." "maybe I just don't understand what they mean... what is.. Jus.ti.fi.cay.shon" he explained it to me and somehow I still missed it. A friend of mine was reading hers and I said "I don't understand what this means, can you help me?" After a little bit of a shove from her I realized that I could read what was in front of me and I liked it. I was so shocked I said "hey, I understand this! I know what this says!" she looked at me as if I had gone bonkers but I was pretty happy. It took me 9 years to learn how to read and comprehend things. After that I pretty much enjoyed reading

Well, Can I attribute my learning to read to realizing I was desperate for somthing more than me or maybe it is just a coincidental order of events?? I dunno but There is definetly more to reading then meets the eye (no punn intended).

(I only bring this up because I am learning to read Hebrew and it is comming along way better then English ever did.)