A Weathered Binding

I went to the library last week and checked out one of my favorite childhood books, "The Boxcar Children" by Gertrude Chandler Warner. I was elated to find the library copy was the same familiar red textured, worn book cover that I remembered from so many years ago. I am sure that if I could go back in time and pull out the thin yellow and tattered index card from its wooden cubicle that I would have checked this book out at least a dozen times from first through third grade. I doubt anyone would understand but I have been waiting a long time, for just the right moment, to share this story with my children. I wanted this to be something special between us. You know those rare moments when your children's attention is held tight and they are listening with all the attentiveness they can muster and you are truly connected for one extraordinary moment in time? No interrupting, no distractions.

I happily received pleadings to read just one more chapter, elated gasps of surprise, proud cheers and "oh no's" followed by clapping and teddy bear hugging at the end. I am deliriously happy that this book was loved by them just as much as it had been, and still is, for me. No, it is not some written miracle of a children’s book but it has the simple naivete of an era long gone. It is an adventurous and suspensfull storyline with an "all is right in the world" ending. We ended up reading the last six chapters tonight (almost two hours in all) without one potty break or fidget. I couldn't believe that much time had gone by! My oldest hugged me from the top of his bunk bed and told me that it was the best story ever. My youngest leaned out of the bottom bunk and held me extra tight and asked me if we could start it all over again tomorrow night. I had to smile. Henry, Jessie, Violet and Benny have lived on. My heart is warm and fuzzy. My love for books may be passed on to my children yet! Cartoons and video games be dammed, every once in a while the imagination still reins supreme.