Each member gave me a
copy of her favorite children’s book. The collection became my son’s first
library.
I was touched by the
stories each person told as I unwrapped the books, and my friends shared why
each gift was a favorite.
The collection remains
on our shelves today, even though my son is graduating middle school.
Once in a while, when
he’s searching for something to read, he’ll see “Guess How Much I Love You” by
Sam McBratney, “Thump, Thump, Rat-a-Tat-Tat” by Gene Kaer, “Good-night Gorilla”
by Peggy Rathmann or “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” by Bill Martin
Jr.
“I remember that
board book,” he’ll say, selecting one off the shelf.
To this day, reading “Love You Forever” by Robert N. Munsch still makes me cry.
I feel a wave of
gratefulness when I see my son spontaneously reading Marianna Mayer’s “Pegasus”
or A.A. Milne’s “When We Were Very Young.” I credit his love of reading to my
book club. Their kindness gave him a great head start.
But the book club
didn’t just shower me with gifts for my son. They also copied their favorite
poems about motherhood and compiled them elegantly inside two pieces of
lavender tulle tied with a grape satin ribbon.
The collection
includes “My Mother” by Jane Taylor, “Lines and Squares” and “Halfway Down” by
A.A. Milne, “The Reading Mother” by Strickland Gillilan, “The Children’s Hour”
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “Misnomer” by Eve Merriam and “The Swing” by
Robert Louis Stevenson.
I like to read their
favorite poems on Mother’s Day as my son and his younger brother prepare me
breakfast in bed. The gift and their friendship truly is a treasure. And so are
my sons.
-- cawk
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