Beloved Books!

The Velveteen Rabbit… Harry the Dirty Dog… Go Dog. Go! These were some of my favourite books growing up. I looked forward to bedtime because of the stories I knew came with it. And yes, perhaps my love affair with words began young.┬áBut now, dear and faithful readers, I want your input. What book did you want read over and over in childhood? Which book was your favourite to flip through? Are there lines of a book you can still remember and recite?

Together let’s generate a list of beloved books! Include your kids’ current favourites if you prefer.

5 thoughts on Beloved Books!

  1. The very first book that I was able to read independently was a little reader book from school called “Gus”. I remember being so proud that I could read the whole book all by myself. I brought it home and read it over and over again, to anyone who would listen. It was about a caterpillar who turned into a butterfly. I just remember the feeling of being stunned and proud that I could read!

    Grace-Lyn’s favorite book was Brown Bear Brown Bear but now it’s Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.

    1. What an empowering experience for you!
      By the way, my stepdaughter learned to read with Brown Bear Brown Bear!

  2. Given my age, Dr. Seuss, Shel Silverstein, and Robert Munsch had not yet appeared on the children’s lit. scene;equally important, parents did not religiously read bedtime stories to children as a matter of course in this era.

    But my father was his own man. Hence, among my earliest memories is my father reading a large, imposing resource book entitled “Lives of the Composers.” I knew this litany of names from an early age: Mozart, Litz, Bach, Shubert, Beethoven and my father’s favourite–Handel. I do not much remember details from these mens’ lives and today wonder how appropriate some of the details may have been for a six year old child. What I do recall vividly is the feeling of being read to. My father’s close proximity. His masculine smell. His large hands. The inflection in his voice mirroring his deep admiration for these men and their works.
    Would I have loved reading and books (and classical music) as I do today without this experience. I have no way to prove it one way or another.

    My father was simply sharing his love with me. And I bought in. Partly because, it felt holy.

  3. Like Jean, I grew up before some of the greats we love now. But I had my sister’s illustrated (beautifully) Grimms fairy tales, which she later gave to my daughters–a real treasure! And I read biographies like a maniac in grade 6, but they didn’t make me into a reader. I don’t recall not being able to read, or learning how to read, or most of what I read. wish I had those memories.

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