Mom suggested I read the Laura Ingalls Wilder books to my children when they were young. She read Little House in the Big Woods to her grade one students each year and assured me the children loved the story.
I went out and bought the first book in the series, couldn’t hurt to try, being my philosophy. Besides, didn’t want Mom nagging me—not that she would have. Well, maybe only a little.
Each evening we sat on the sofa and read a chapter before bedtime. Like my mother’s students, my children were enraptured by the story. I was too, and reading together offered me the opportunity to tell my children more about my childhood on the farm as I was able to relate many of my own experiences to the book.
At the time, we lived on the edge of the city with farmland and a creek across the street…
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