Books I Read as a Small Child

In my post on 15 books that have stuck with me, I included Little Mommy by Sharon Kane (a Little Golden Book), the Little Golden Books' version of Jingle Bells (pre-school), and the Little House on the Prairie books by Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Why do I remember these?

Jingle Bells is hard to forget. This made my list, though, because of a photo. One year, probably the year I turned four, my mother took a photo of me in my rocking chair reading this. Despite the fact that the photo was taken during the summer, Mom sent it out that year with our Christmas Cards. I still have several copies of this.

Little Mommy was one of my favorites. I can still recite it, if I think about it hard enough. So can my mother. Imagine, then, my surprise and horror the first day of my undergraduate children's literature class when the instructor (Patricia MacLaclan) holds it up as an example of absolutely horrid children's literature. It is bad, I can't disagree with her, but that's my childhood she was mocking.

The Little House books made the list for two reasons. They are among the first books I read for myself and not as a school assignment and signal the point at which I really became a reader. They are also among the books I re-read every summer until I was in college.