Recently while touring the Smithsonian Museum of American
History in Washington, D.C., I explored a special exhibit on Little Golden
Books. Among the many classic tales was
one of my favorite childhood books, “Nurse Nancy.” I loved that book! Here was a little girl who wanted to be
somebody; she had plans for her future, and she explored her options. Being a
little dreamer myself, I totally identified with Nancy. Then I started thinking:
I could browse through a bookstore or library and trace my life through the
books I have read. Here is a quick synopsis of books and me through the years.
Recently
a friend gave me a lovely, worn copy of a Bobbsey Twin mystery. Just thumbing
through it, I was back in Mrs. Mefford’s fourth-grade classroom listening after
lunch to the adventures of Burt and Nan and Freddie and Flossie. Fourth grade was also the year I became
acquainted with Little Women. Oh how I wanted to be Jo!
A year
or so later, I discovered Zane Grey and became a fan of the western genre. I even tried my hand at play writing, setting
my dramas in western outposts, complete with beautiful, brave heroines and
handsome heroes. In addition to my western fascination, I became a fan of
biographies. My fifth grade classroom
had a blue-bound set of biographies of famous people. Of course, they were mostly about men, but a
few outstanding women like Clara Barton inspired me.
In my
early teen years, I immersed myself in A
Tree Grows in Brooklyn and Gone with
the Wind. I vicariously suffered through the Civil War with Scarlet O’Hara
and endured crushing poverty with Francie Nolan. It was also during this time period that I
read To Kill a Mockingbird. Any
mention of that book and I am back sitting on my front porch swatting summer
flies while totally engrossed in the lives of Scout, Jem, and Atticus.
In high
school I loved literature class. I read
everything assigned and wondered why anyone would complain about Charles
Dickens. Great Expectations certainly
met my expectations. I even loved The Red
Badge of Courage. Then as an English major in college, I delved even deeper
into classic literature and discovered works such as William Golding’s Lord of the Flies and the poetry of Emily
Dickinson. Then in graduate school, my
mind was occupied with Victorian poets, Letters
of a Woman Homesteader, and Thoreau’s Walden.
As a
young mother, I devoured books while babies slept. Pearl Buck’s The Good Earth and Amy Tan’s The
Joy Luck Club and The Kitchen God’s
Wife got me through many an ear infection and bouts of colic. I call it my Chinese period. Then when my children were old enough to
enjoy books, I became caught up in Bearenstain Bears, Curious George, and
Little Critter. Our visits to the
library were weekly highlights. I can
still hear Shannon saying, “Get Melie Delie, Mama; get Melie Delie.” That was
during our Amelia Bedelia period. As
they grew older, we read together. My
girls loved the Little House books, and Keenan and I shared Harry Potter.
Over the
years I have shared many books with my students—Tess of the D’urbervilles, The Grapes of Wrath, The Great Gatsby,
and The Age of Innocence just to name
a few. What a lucky person I am to have
a job that requires reading good books! Any time I want to just kick back and
read, I can justify such idleness by saying I am doing research.
I
suppose some people can remember periods in their lives by songs, movies, TV
shows, or world events, but for me books serve as markers in my life. I can see
in my mind what the world was like even down to the clothes I was wearing when
I think about a book I was reading at the time.
I can’t imagine life without the comfort of a book.
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