Children's Books: A Sentimental Journey

Sometimes I think that I loved children's books more than my children did. My two are now away at college and aged 19 and 21. I guess it's time to put the children's books away. Interestingly, if my children don't wait till they are in their mid 30s to have children of their own, I might get to take the books out within the next 10 years.

Like Mr. FS who received a bad evaluation for his job reshelving books at the Lilly Library (he was seen reading more than a time or two), my progress of boxing is slowed by some lengthy glances. We have given away many books over the years. Nobody, however, ever really appreciates these (to me) precious gifts.

My sister-in-law asked us for some books in the hopes that her kids would like to read. We sent a huge box and heard nary a word back. Eventually, I asked if they had received the box of books. "What box?" they said. A few days later, my sister-in-law said, "Oh, thank you for the box of books. We loved them." I got the feeling that none had been read.

So many books are about frugality and order. I've already packed A Chair for My Mother. The mother works sooooo hard. The family saves coins in a jar and, at the end, they get the mother a comfy chair.

Then there's Something from Nothing. This is one of those Grandpa makes the little boy a jacket, then a vest, eventually a button, and at the end, a wonderful story! What a wonderful message. And the pictures show the growing family upstairs, while, below the stairs, the mouse family is garbed in bits of the same fabric. The family upstairs is Eastern European Jewish and so is the mouse family: the little mice even go to Hebrew School.

Right now, I'm looking at Sailor Dog by Margaret Wise Brown, who is best known for Good-Night Moon.

Scuppers went to sea. And he went down below to his little room, and he hung his new hat on the hook for his hat, and he hung his spyglass on the hook for his spyglass, and he hung his new coat on the hook for his coat, and his new handkerchief on the hook for his handkerchief, and his pants on the hook for his pants, and his new rope on the hook for his rope, and his new shoes he put under his bunk, and himself he put on his bunk.

And here he is where he wants to be--a sailor sailing the deep green sea.

How's that for simplicity and order? Not a single book is about going to the mall, opening scads of presents on birthdays and holidays, whipping out the credit card, or getting your first cell phone.

I can't resist another favorite: Roxaboxen. This is a true story about a bunch of kids perhaps 80 years ago in Funny's state of Arizona, making a whole world (with rules, even a jail) in the desert.

I am getting a distinct sense of deja vu. I think that I wrote an almost identical post in the early days of my blog. Well, probably no one read it then. Plus, it's recycling.