My favorite children's book was Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. We had a copy of the book that had belonged to my oldest sister, Mary that was passed along to my brother John, and finally to my twin sister, Beth and I. It was well used by the time I got my hands on it, and the frailty of the book lent a kind of sacredness to it. We handled it carefully and asked for it to be read to us long after we were capable of reading other books to ourselves.
I remember listening to my parents read the story to my sister and I as we lay in bed at night. Because it was such a long story, they would never read the entire story to us in one sitting, and even though we always wanted them to read more, I loved going to sleep somewhere in the middle so that I could think about the story as I lay in bed.
The story stuck with me much longer than any other of my favorite children's books. There was something about the children learning to fly, about their escape to Neverland, and their finding a way to stay children forever that haunted me as I began the transition from child to teenager to adult. I think everyone has a little bit of Peter Pan in them, and reading the story at different times in my life has always brought me back to listening to my parents read to me in my childhood bedroom.
No comments:
Post a Comment