My Favorite Book

13Write about your favorite book as a child. Do you remember the title, the writer’s or the illustrator’s name? Were you reading it by yourself, or was an adult reading it to you? Have you ever re-read it as an adult, maybe to your child, or just for yourself? What was the most memorable episode or character? Did it make you do anything new – maybe to become more adventurous, or change your name and identity, or learn how to read, or write and illustrate a book yourself? The Rise and Write details are here. With letting myself sleep late yesterday, I am doing two this morning.  I clocked this oe at 16 minutes.  feedback welcome.

The pages were already smudged, and the cover tatty when I placed my copy of E.B. Whites Charlotte's Web on the new book shelf in my new bedroom. I don't remember exactly when the book first became mine, but it was before I could read.  In elementary school, each month was the opportunity to purchase books through Scholastic book orders.  I didn't get to order every month, but birthday money, odd change found, and occasional money from my mom and dad, would allow a book or two from the $1.00 section.  This is how I  owned my beloved  book.  I remember one of my older sisters reading it out loud to me and my younger sister.  There were a few pen and ink illustrations strewn throughout the book to help develop the image of Fern, Wilbur, Charlotte and the rat in my head, but they weren't needed.  I could see it all.  I could smell the barn yard and smell the county fair. 

The summer before I turned 13, about the age Fern was in the book, my family moved into a new house, on the same property.  The 13o year old farmhouse was deemed in too rough a shape to try and update the wiring, heating, and foundation. It was to be demolished. The new house was a plain split entry, two bedrooms up, two bedrooms down, practical house.  My younger sister and I still shared a room, and being in the lower half, a natural shelf where the brick foundation  was built, surrounded the outside walls,   This shelf was perfect for books, and I continued to fill my section. Nine years later when I packed up those books to move into my first house after getting married, Charlotte and Wilbur came with me as well. 

I remember reading the book when I was on bed rest, pregnant with my first child, needing to hold the pages carefully as they were coming loose from the glue binding. The book came to our current house, and was read to my two older children until eventually, it just completely fell apart. Each of the kids have brought home library copies.  We watched the movie as a family, much like I did as a child, but I've never purchased another copy of the book.  I would have if the kids had ever requested, but I didn't feel a need for another version.  In writing this I am feeling a mourning for the book.  I mourn that old farmhouse with the creeky floors and outdated minimalistic plumbing.  I mourn my childhood, and more so my children's childhood. I mourn those last minutes of Charlotte's life, and remember my version of Wilbur's sadness in my mind.  But I mourn for just a moment.  It is morning, and it looks to be a glorious day ahead. So, in the immortal word of my favorite book, I greet you reader, "Salutations."