“Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?”
Amidst the chaos of getting ready for work and making sure my sons were settled for their first day of vacation, this writing prompt popped up in my Twitter feed.
Of course I remember.
A is for Alice
It was pink and soft, oversized with beautiful black and white illustrations. I think my mom purchased it for me because I had just been in the play “Alice in Wonderland.” I was certainly too old for a glorified alphabet book, but I loved it just the same.
It sat in a place of honor on our family’s bookshelves for years. Every once in a while I would thumb through its pages. I could feel my mom’s love for me in that book.
I wish now I knew what became of that book. Like my childhood, it just seemed to slip away.
alenaslife 
The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White was the first book I stayed up all night to read. I must have been about 10 years old and the details of the story have since slipped away for me. I’ve bought it for my oldest child and the fact that I told her it made me cry has prevented her from reading it, yet. I think it will make my reading list this summer, for sure. Thanks for the nudge!
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I love Charlotte’s Web, but never read this one. It might be because I have boys, but I haven’t shared many reads with my kids. We do all love Shel Silverstein, Beverly Cleary and Roald Dahl. Maybe we should all read something together this year.
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My favorite was The Giving Tree. Love that book. I read it to my children often! 🙂
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Yes, yes, yes. I cry every time. I was so thrilled when one of my sons took it as his favorite book in 2nd grade.
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What Shall I Put in the Hole that I Dig? This was a small book that quite honestly, was probably bought for one of my older sisters, but I loved it. The story is about two kids who consider putting all sorts of objects in the hole they have dug and wondering what those things will become (i.e. buttons become a button tree). I’m not sure why I loved it so much–I was never one to dig anything, but I was mesmerized at the idea of “what could be.”
I had forgotten all about that book until about 4 years ago when my youngest was digging a hole in our sandbox and suddenly shouted, “What should I put in the hole that I’m digging?” I started to cry–and immediately called my mom who promptly found the tattered book and mailed it to me. Jack still takes it off the shelf to read on any given weeknight.
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I am so not surprised that you’ve always been drawn to possibilities. I think I’m going to have to look for this one for my own sons, who are far too cynical already.
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