Have you ever seen such a lame post title? Yeah, me neither.

I was just thinking, though, about reading during my childhood and early teen years. I was an avid reader from the start. There were never enough library visits and I resorted to reading anything I could get my hands on, much of which was theoretically beyond me. Reading wasn’t just a passion; it was an addiction, one that actually got me in trouble more than once.

So my greatest treasures were in my little library. My mom was a single mother for much of our childhood so, even though she and Daddy remarried before I went into 6th grade, actually owning books wasn’t a high budget priority. I had aunts, though, who knew just what I liked and occasionally slipped me books they believed I would enjoy. And I did – all of them. They were so good that I was still rereading some of them as an adult… until they were lost to mold.

I’m kind of sad my granddaughters will likely never read any of them. The books kids enjoy today are so very different. They’re not bad, or what I’ve seen aren’t. It’s just that genres and topics and tastes change.

For instance, one of my absolute favorites was my copy of Heidi, by Swiss author Johanna Spyri. It was originally written in German; I, of course, read an English translation. I loved reading about Heidi and her life with her grandfather in the Swiss Alps. I loved it so much that I eventually bought Heidi Grows Up and Heidi’s Children, by Charles Tritten, and I loved and reread them too. The lifestyle represented in these books was very different from what I knew, but that was part of the charm. Regarding my oldest granddaughter… Although I’d love to give her a copy, I just don’t know, especially since she just turned fourteen.

And then there was Eight Cousins, by Louisa May Alcott. I am definitely an Alcott fan, though I’ve not read everything she wrote. I probably read Eight Cousins fifty times, and when I found out there was a sequel (Rose in Bloom) and that I could learn more about Rose Campbell, I immediately headed to the only bookstore in town and then waited because it was a special order.

Being an Alcott fan, Little Women is a no brainer. I actually have a copy of it on my Kindle and at one point I had a goal of owning every Little Women movie that was ever made. The movie goal fell through (I’d much rather read than watch), but I almost know Little Women by heart. And then, of course, when I learned about Little Men I had to have it too.

And then there is Swiss Family Robinson, by Johann David Wyss, another Swiss author. I am well aware of the scientific impossibilities the book represents and to this day I don’t care. I absolutely loved that book! What I do care about is that there are different versions of the book out there. The original copy I had is long gone, and although I’ve read a couple of others the translations seemed…off. And that’s not even addressing the issue of abridged books (which I don’t like, of course).

Finally, or last for this list anyway, one of my summer traditions was to read my grandmother’s set of Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. For years, they really were a once-a-year read, but I did eventually get a set of my own and I read them so many times. In fact, I should really get them for my kindle too. And yes, I do know her works have come under fire because of Ma’s attitude towards Native Americans, but the fact is her attitude was not uncommon at the time, and I always knew instinctively that Ma was wrong. To eliminate her prejudice would be to incorrectly present an ugly reality of the past.

And, honestly, that’s one of the reasons I like these classic books. In reading them, I learned much about what to do and what not to do. I had high standards set that I instinctively strove to reach and, yes, what I read definitely affected the growth of my character without me knowing it.

Which is another reason they were treasures I wish I could share with my grandkids.

So much has changed in the past 50 years.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C