What is the first book you remember loving?
I had to do some digging in my memory to come up with an answer to this. The first book I every read by myself was Green Eggs and Ham, and I must have loved it on some level. I had it read to me until I memorized it, and then I matched up the words in my head to the words on the page and taught myself to read. But I don't really remember doing that.
Likewise, I don't remember loving very many short picture books. I'm sure I did, and I've definitely bought several for my son because of nostalgia. But none of them stick out as ever being a favorite book.
And then I came across Little House in the Big Woods, which I read before Little House on the Prairie and have always loved more. It follows the Ingalls family through a year in their life before they decided to pick up and move west, and I adored this slice of life. It's also probably the root of my love of winter, which in this book is shown as a season to slow down and spend more time cuddled up in front of the fire telling stories.
I went on to read most of the rest of the series (though not all of it). But it took me a long time to understand why they'd abandon such an idyllic life for one of hardship and impermanence. Learning more about the family's problems definitely puts these books in a new light. But I don't know that it'll ever erase my love for this one completely.
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