02 October 2009

Sharing a Favorite


(our oldest as a new one year old--in Espi's special Carhartt purchase--enjoying "pictures" via books)

Our oldest and I have started short novels. I am enjoying it more than I anticipated.

A couple months ago, I pulled a couple books out of storage, and asked her if she'd like to try one.

We started with Little House in the Big Woods.

It went well.

Next, she chose one of my old American Girl novels, Meeting Samantha.
Next, she chose a small version novel of Alice in Wonderland.

Then we bounced back to the other two American Girl novels I owned growing up, Samantha Learns a Lesson and Samantha Saves the Day.
The American Girls series were a hit; so we have picked up a couple more from the library so far: Changes for Samantha and Happy Birthday, Samantha.

As we wait for a couple more Samantha novels to be ready for pick-up at the library, we pulled down the Narnia series we have at home and started The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe a couple days ago.

This of all the novels has the fewest pictures so far (only a small black and white at the start of each chapter), and it didn't go unnoticed during our first reading.

However, we finished chapter seven tonight, and she is shows interest and enjoyment.

If only she enjoyed this time we are sharing because we are cuddling together, just the two of us, in the "bear chair" (aka recliner), I am good with that.
But I love that she asks about words and punctuation she's unfamiliar with.

I love that she brings up parts of the stories we have read or are reading and makes some relationship with what's going on in her day.

And now, I love that I am enjoying one of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis, with her.

I've mentioned before that I am a sucker for words. Tonight we came to a sentence that made me stop.
I said something like, "Oooo weee," and giddy with a smile, "We'd better read that one again!"
"Why, Mom?"
"That was good!"
This is what was re-read from chapter seven, "A Day with the Beavers":
Perhaps it has sometimes happened to you in a dream that someone says something which you don't understand but in the dream it feels as if it had some enormous meaning--either a terrifying one which turns the whole dream into a nightmare or else a lovely meaning too lovely to put into words, which makes the dream so beautiful that you remember it all your life and are always wishing you could get into that dream again.

Good, right? Then as we continued, I was just as pleased:

It was like that now. At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in his inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realise that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.

We are onto something here,
and I know it is just as much for me as it is for our girl.