Once Thanksgiving is over, I pull out the basket of holiday books. These books only come out for a short time this year, and we read through them from the beginning of December till about mid-January.
But there are two books that I have not yet shared with my little darlings. Stories that they’re familiar with, and would enjoy, but that I just don’t trust to put into their careless little hands.
The first is a Golden Book copy of Frosty The Snowman. This book was printed in 1981, but contains the original 1950s illustrations. The binding is torn, evidence that it was well-loved by other careless little hands. My name is printed on the inside cover in my elementary-era handwriting. It even has that “old book” smell.
The other is a 1980 Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Golden Shape Book. It’s paperback, frayed…and marked for sale at $.59.
I can’t even find copies online, with the exception of Ebay (see Rudolph link). The closest I can find to my copy of Frosty is here, but my version is actually physically larger. And when I type in the ISBN number, I get a completely different book entirely.
Which makes these books even more precious, and makes me want to hold them a little closer.
Yet another part of me says that these books are meant to be shared.
So maybe I will.
Under very close supervision.
Do you have any childhood books that you’ve kept from your own children? Do you have any that you share, but with trepidation?
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