How To Grow A Zuska

Aug 27 2010 Published by under How to Grow a Zuska, Tales From The Coal Patch

Anyone can be a Zuskateer if they want - many of you are, and I thank you for reading!  Perhaps some of you more adventurous folk look at your young ones, picture  them in a onesie emblazoned "Future Zuskateer!" and wonder "just how the heck did she turn out that way anyhow?"  Being childfree myself, I am the last person in the world to turn to for childrearing advice.  Nevertheless, I have spent some time pondering the positive things my parents did for me, and at the top of any such list would be this: valuing books.

"Disposable income" there was not much to speak of, but we always had books in the house.  Not a huge library, but enough to justify, at some point, my parents purchasing a bookshelf.  Back in the olden days, when people still read actual books printed on paper, men used to travel door-to-door as encyclopedia salesmen, exhorting working class families to purchase encyclopedia sets so that the poor kids could learn.  My parents bought the World Book Encyclopedia, and the Childcraft books, and the Grosset & Dunlap Companion Library two-in-one books.  We had a raft of Dr. Seuss books and other small story books for small children - I remember being particularly fond of "Splish, Splash, and Splush", a book about some ducklings afraid to swim, who head off to the pond with rainboots and umbrellas. The water strips them of their fear-born coping mechanisms and voila!  Swimming!!!  The wise mother duck allows them to clutch their useless umbrellas and figure out for themselves that they like swimming - unlike my dad's father, who taught him to swim by repeatedly throwing him in the Monongahela River until, in self-defense, he swam.

But my most favorite book, when I was little, was this one.  

I'm Suzy - Cover

"I'm Suzy" is a "Whitman BIG Tell-Tale" book, by Dorotha Ruthstrom, illustrated by Alice Schlesinger, copyright 1966 by Western Publishing Company Inc.  It is beautifully illustrated, with repetition of key images and phrases throughout the short book.  My mother bought this book for me primarily because of the spelling of Suzy on the cover.  I did not look like the Suzy of the book - my hair was not blond, nor particularly well-behaved. But we spelled our names the same - Suzy not Susie.

Suzy-in-the-book spends a lot of time pondering about what she is, and is not.  "If I were a frisky little puppy, I'd lap up my food with my tongue.  Or if I were a pretty little baby, my mother would feed me.  But I'm not a frisky little puppy, and I'm not a pretty little baby.  I'm Suzy.  And so I eat my food with a spoon or a fork."  On the very last page of the book, after Suzy has contemplated all that she is and is not, all that she can do and that makes her herself, she pronounces "I'm so glad I'm Suzy!"  I read this book, and had it read to me, over and over and over again.

When I say that I had this book (and others) read to me, I need to give you some background, so that you can really appreciate how much my parents, especially my mother, valued books and reading to their children.  My mom had six kids.  The first three were sort of clustered close together, and then she had a break for about four years.  Then she had my next oldest brother, then eighteen months later me, then eighteen months after that my younger sister.  When she was still breast-feeding my sister, my next-oldest brother had some kind of allergy problem for which he was supposed to drink soy milk.  The soy milk didn't exactly agree with his system, either, and often ran right through him.  So she would be breast-feeding an infant, have a young child running around with soy-milk diarrhea running down his leg, and a toddler hanging off one side clutching a book and begging "read to me mommy!  read to me!"  Then dad would come home from the mine.  And you try washing work clothes full of coal dust and grease with a wringer washer and some washtubs.  Remember to make dinner for nine people, too - because did I mention that my Pappap lived with us?  (Of course, some people think my dad was just paying for her kids, that freeloading mother of mine.)

Well, my mother did read to me.  The older brothers and sisters read to the younger ones, too, and Pappap read to us, and we learned to read to ourselves quite young.  As I've said, there were books in the house.  You might not get that new pair of jeans or blouse that you just had to have - your sister's hand-me-downs will do just fine! And your cousins just sent over a nice bag of clothes, hardly worn!  So who needs new?

But if you asked for books, the answer was nearly always yes.  Yes, you can order two or three or four books from the school paperback book club form.  Yes, we are going grocery shopping in Carmichaels, you can come along, and go to the public library while we shop. Yes, the bookmobile is coming to our town this summer - let's mark down the days and hours so you can check out some books when it is here.  Yes, I will read you that book while I am nursing your sister, if you will stand alongside the rocker and hold the book for me and turn the pages when I tell you to.

Maybe you won't find a book whose title proclaims "I'm [insert your child's name here]!" and that offers a subtle lesson in valuing the self for one's growing independence, ability, and kindness, rather than beauty.  But anyone can read to a child.  If you value books and give of your time, even in the midst of chaos,  it should get you decent mileage.

The last time I was at my mother's house, I went looking for the books I ordered over the years from those paperback book club order forms in grade school/middle school.  Many of my books are gone, given away or sold in yard sales, but a large number of them remain, and I thought it might be fun to revisit them one at a time, now and then.  Reading was such a huge influence on me in my early years, and some of those books really affected me.  I retrieved a cardboard box full and lugged them home and into the house, despite the looks Mr. Z cast at me - "More books?  Seriously? Just how many hours per day will you be reading?"  The "How to Grow a Zuska" category will include looks back at those works of child literature, and occasional stories about Things My Parents Did Right, as the spirit moves me.

Meanwhile, in the comments thread - if you'd like to share a memory of a favorite early childhood book (the stuff you had read to you when you before you could read or were just learning to read), please do.  Or as usual, comment on anything in the post that strikes your fancy.

31 responses so far

  • Jen says:

    I remember learning how to read when I was 4/5. I LOVED books - there are many photos of me as a toddler, holding a book close to my nose (I was severely myopic). I don't remember when my mom started really teaching me to read (definitely after I glasses when I was 3), but I clearly remember the day I "got it" - it was a Dick and Jane book that mom had picked up at Goodwill (which has always been one of the best places to find a good book). I became a real bookworm - I drove my parents crazy, asking to go to the library several times a week. I drove the librarian crazy trying to track down any book I hadn't yet read. I loved series - Little House (I still have my complete Scholastic set), Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Beverly Cleary's Ramona books. Sadly, I haven't made time to read for pleasure in recent years - too busy with my postdoc, teaching, etc. Maybe it's time to re-read Little House tonight.

  • k8 says:

    Apparently, I was kept from running away numerous times through the sway of my mom reading me a chapter of The Secret Garden. I still have that book. How worn it is. And when we were growing up, we could check out the number of books that we were old each week from the library. Did that sentence make any sense? When I was 9, I could check out 9 books each week. I thought that was awesome! Turns out my mother had a motive. She then knew how many books needed to be returned by adding our ages together. Smart mommy.

  • Dr. O says:

    Couldn't agree more. We had a book that I used to read to my little brother called Pierre. It was about how Pierre always said "I don't care" brother at the time had a problem with this phrase. It was kind of an odd book (Pierre ended up getting eaten by a lion at the end because "he didn't care") and not my favorite book from childhood. But it was my favorite one to read with my brother, and we both still remember the time together fondly. He had me, my mom and my dad all reading to him every night, and is still a very avid reader to this day.

  • Karen says:

    Richard Scarry was my favorite author, and now that I'm revisiting his work again with my nearly 3 yr old, he's regaining that status. Something about the eyes on Tom the Kitten, the frequent freakouts of authority figures like the policedog, and the spunk of Lowly Worm, who managed to get fully dressed and hop around town despite having no arms and only one "leg" (really his tail). We got "Find Your ABC's" out from the bookmobile last week, and I hit R and freaked out a little: I remembered every detail of the spread. The book I remember loving most as a kid was "The Rainy Day Book." Lowly Worm -- his jaunty little hat just kills me.

  • grrljock says:

    I'm in awe of your mother. I get exasperated trying to get stuff done with just one 4-year old (and a dog and a cat :)) in the house, I can't even imagine having to deal with what your mom had to deal with.

    The first book I remember loving was "Are You My Mother" by P.D. Eastman. I was so happy when I found it again in my parents' house some years ago, and I made sure to cart it back to my house. Now it's somewhere on my son's bookshelf.

    • Zuska says:

      "Are You My Mother?" was among the collection of books we called "Dr Seuss books" although not written by Dr. Seuss. They were all the same size and seemed of a set - I don't know if my parents got them mail order or in a book a month type deal or how, as we rarely or never went to actual bookstores. But AYMM was read to me often, and my mother still mentions this book in particular as one she loved reading to us younger kids (and later, grandkids). The little baby bird's search for its mother she thought was so affecting. When I look back on this as an adult, I think of two things: (1) how hard she worked to make a good home and care for all of her own baby birds, and (2) that she lost her own mother when she was just about twenty years old, and then had to take on raising her younger brother and sister.

      I have asked her how she managed to do everything she did and she's said "I didn't know I couldn't, and I knew I had to, so I just did it." I do not think she gives herself credit for her ability to plan well and work hard to manage such a household and feed and cloth a small army on a limited budget.

  • Another Peggy says:

    What a wonderful post! We had World Book Encyclopedias, too, when I was growing up. My mother taught me to read, probably to get me out of her hair, and I read pretty much anything I could get my hands on, to the point that my parents had to make me put the book down and go outside and run around for a while. I remember the Bobsey Twins, the Walter Farley Black Stallion books, the Marguerite Henry Misty of Chincoteague books. Later on I memorized many Dr. Seuss books reading them to my younger we've about memorized Flat Stanley reading it to my step-grandson.

    • Kimberly says:

      I spent my early years with my grandparents who had the World Book Encyclopedias. Now, I don't remember who taught me to read or how or when, but I know I was reading by age 3. My favorite books to read, without a doubt, were the S and P volumes of the encyclopedias (S=solar system, P=planets).

      Now I'm getting my PhD in Physics. Who'da thunk?

  • FrauTech says:

    Ahh memories. I am just barely old enough to have used encyclopedias when I was young to do research for school as by late high school we were just being taught to use the internet for research. However, too young for the travelling salesmen. I remember those and we had some "science" books for kids and teens that I mined for numerous reports I had to do.

    When we were little my mom had "custom" books made for us, pre-determined stories where the makers of the book would go through and insert your kid's name as the main character to the story and I always thought that was cool. My sister's was something about an adventure at a circus and mine was about being messy and unprepared for a trip to the beach. Which was pretty accurate to the kind of kid I was, so I definitely thought it was written FOR me. I remember some neat book about a bunch of gnomes or something and all the mechanical devices they used to run their world. Wish I could find that, I'll have to go hunt it down.

  • ChristineH says:

    I love how some of your posts lately have been about family. I've spent the past few days thinking about my mom and food and love, and remembering things from happy times. Mom's been gone six years now, so anytime I can remember something I haven't thought about in years is always a good thing. 🙂
    Golden books! Mom and the Golden books. I don't even know if that's what they were really called, just that that's what my mom called them. They were little hard cover books with a gold binding on them. If my brother and I were really really good when we went to town, Mom would promise we could pick out a Golden book. I remember them being very special, very precious things. Later on I remember the Little House series, and Anne of Green Gables (I'm Canadian, eh). My grandmother went to PEI one summer and brought me back a copy, and I remember almost not wanting to touch it because it came from Green Gables. The actual Green Gables! It was the real deal.

    As for being read to, that was my Dad's department. He had lots of poetry books, and I remember evenings sitting in the rocker with him as he read them to me. My all-time favourite was "The Higwayman" by Alfred Noyes. I can still recite it from memory. I was young enough he had to explain what galleons, rapiers and red-coats were, and looking back it is maybe not the most kid-friendly poem out there, but I loved it. I think tomorrow I'll issue a challenge to dear ol' Dad and see if he can recite it. My guess is he can. 🙂

    • shelly says:

      The Highwayman was one of my favorite poems too! It was in my book "The Golden Treasury of Poetry" by Louis Untermeyer. I still read it and remember when my mom read it to me and other poems.

  • jc says:

    Wow, Frautech, I also had those books with my name inserted. One was Snow White, the back had my name and address like it came in the mail, I remember I was a character in it, and I used to read it every night. And ChristineH, I also had Golden Books, a whole bookshelf of them. I had books that came with records. I could read along with the record. I remember a farm animal one.
    I also brought Scholastic Book pamphlets home and I could pick out books. My brother used to get Berenstain Bears. I liked the mystery books, but I wasn't much of a reader. I spent hours and hours listening to the radio, trying to play the music on the piano or keyboard, making up lyrics/poems for my own songs. We were forced to pick out books in the library, and I begged to listen to records or flip through Ranger Rick and Highlights magazines.

  • Amy says:

    I, too, had a book with my name in it. I can't remember the title, though. Her pregnant aunt came over to her house and her mother got out her baby-stuff to give for her new cousin to use. It was about growing up, I guess. Lots of things to the effect of "I can't believe I was ever that little!" I think I liked it mostly because of the little girl's name and also because I had an outfit just like she did.

    My favorite book was a very small one called A Quiet Place. It's a poem about a little girl, Grace, seeking a quiet place to have all her own and to have a treat there. Eventually she finds one when along comes -- horror of horrors! -- a boy! And they're loud! I remember it ends, "So she broke her cake and gave him part/And the quiet place was in her heart." I had it memorized before I was three and could, if not read it, then at least recognize the words on each page. I loved reciting the entire book to anyone who would listen (or at least not object.)

    I know my parents read to me but I don't remember it. I was reading well by the time I was 4 and read small chapter books the first time I had access to them, the summer before kindergarten. (Ah, to have library access at last!) At the end of my first school-year, my kindergarten teacher gave me a note to take to the children's librarian, one recommending for me to be allowed to join the summer reading program rather than the summer listening/read-to-me program (that I was supposed to be in by age). I remember the awards ceremony, sitting around on the floor, drinking punch with the other 4 kids my age. I absolutely loved our public library. The school library... pity they made us check out picture books (and only picture books) for the first 3 years. There, the Magic School Bus books were my salvation!

  • estraven says:

    I can't remember learning to read, I'm told I was taught at age 4 by the exhausted great-aunt who was taking care of me. I remember reading, and reading, and reading. A lot. Books for children, and books for grownups which didn't make much sense. Newspapers and magazines and the stuff written on the water bottle at the table (in my country we already drank bottled water 40 years ago).
    I also remember my mother telling me excessive reading would turn me stupid and, possibly, blind (I'm quite shortsighted). It didn't stop me. Nothing did. To this day I read while brushing my teeth, holding my book while I unscrew the toothpaste, pour it on the brush, screw it closed, and use it.
    I did stop during a bout of severe depression. I hope it will not happen again.
    My children (sixth and third grade) don't always read books I would recommend, but they read a lot and with pleasure. Nobody tells them it will make them blind, or stupid, but we insist they don't read while walking, especially on the sidewalk or on the stairs.
    Sorry, that was a lot of me-me-me. But yours was a powerful post.

  • Liz Ditz says:

    I learned to read the summer I was four. For some reason, the bossy older girl cousins were staying with us & we played school, every day.

    The only early reader books I remember clearly are some of the Golden Books, like the Pokey Little Puppy (our dog was named Pokey).

    Our next-door neighbors were British and had a fabulous library of children's books. I read Edith Nesbit and have particularly clear memories of "Five Children and It"; P.L. Travers -- there's more than Mary Poppins, you know.

    My father had kept all of the Oz books, which I also devoured.

  • Jim Thomerson says:

    I had my library card as well as my parent's library cards, and used them to the max every time. I was fortunate read the various Edgar Rice Burroughs books, Tarzan, Mars, Moon Maid, etc. at the proper age. My daughter, who was a teen age problem child, turned out fine. She once remarked to her mother and me, "It scares me how much of you guys I see in myself." Take that to heart in your child raising.

  • lucy says:

    Its amazing to me to consider how important intelligence and education mattered to my parents, considering that my father was just barely functionally literate.
    Dad would come home from the glass factory and he and I would sit in his recliner and he would try to read a few pages of the local weekly paper in the evenings. I was in the first grade when I began correcting his reading. It was before third grade that I knew I would go to college one day - my parents were saving for it even then, and made sure I knew it. Through high school, my younger sister and I would do homework and he would sit with us at the table and read small books, stopping us occasionally to spell out words he didn't recognize.
    Thank goodness for elementary school teachers who recognized the community they were teaching in, and for the public library.
    I am the first member of my family to go to college, and now I am in a PhD program. Colleagues and professors are mostly from upper-class families with long histories of higher education - and they frequently make comments that upset me. I feel completely isolated here because the lifestyle I grew up in is so different than my peers. I can't share anecdotes without it being realized that I am, in fact, belong to those poor working class people that they find so useless to society.

  • skeptifem says:

    My sister hated when I did things she did. She was a really exceptionally good reader, so I ended up staying away from it for years. I did well on standardized tests and ended up reading weird stuff like non-fiction books in high school (you know, instead of going to class).

    Now I read all the time, and kinda feel sad that I didn't read as much as a kid. Then again, my sister got warped by The Babysitters Club books, so perhaps it was for the best. I would imagine that reading propaganda as a kid isn't much better than not reading.

  • Isabel says:

    What a great post! I think I actually remember the encyclopedia salesman's visit. I also recall that, poor as we were, we subscribed to a lot of pretty slick periodicals when I was very young...National geographic, Smithsonian, Life, Look....besides the encyclopedias, we had something called the "Book of Knowledge Annual" which may have been from a slightly older era.

    I also had much older siblings, and was one of those "read anything I could get my hands on" kids, so I ended up reading some interesting novels and other 'advanced' reading material I found lying around the house when I was running out of things to read around age 9 or 10.

    Around that same age, I remember being profoundly affected by Pearl Buck's books.

    "I can’t share anecdotes without it being realized that I am, in fact, belong to those poor working class people that they find so useless to society."

    I hear ya, Lucy;)


  • NancyNew says:

    We were read to, several times a day, long after we could read for ourselves. My mother started me on reading for myself using the Dolan System--signs all over the house on objects, and a reading program to go with it "Everyone knows that "nose" is not "toes" was one of the books. But what turned me into a reader, myself, was "Charlotte's Web." They bought a copy and started to read it aloud to me when I started first grade... but Mom would only read a chapter a night. I simply could not STAND not knowing what happened next. So I got the book, and worked on reading it myself, asking her what whatever I couldn't figure out on my own spelled, and working through it. By the time I'd gotten a couple of chapters on my own, I'd gone from being able to read to being a reader, and I haven't put down a book since.

  • Jojo says:

    I don't remember my parents reading to me as a child, (sorry mom!) but I know that they did. Reading was very important in my family, which resulted in a similar relaxed purchasing policy when it came to books. Unfortunately, I have learning disabilities that interfered with my ability to read, so I never took advantage of it. I did have several favorite books, the Diggingest Dog and Arrow to the Sun, both of which I still own. But that was about it for me and children's books.

    My mother never settled for my school district's evaluation of my academic abilities, and fought tooth and nail to have me evaluated by professionals. It took several years, but she was finally able to get me the help I needed. One of the interventions they recommended involved having me read along with books using the Talking Books program for the blind. It made a huge difference for me and I went from not being able to read the first page of Little House in the Big Woods, to reading the entire book in one sitting. I quickly tossed that aside and devoured A Wrinkle in Time. I've been an avid reader ever since. So, while my mom didn't actually teach me to read, she did everything in her power to find someone/something that would.

    She and I are both working on teaching my 4 year old son to read. I love when I pick him up from her house and discover one of her Little Golden Books sitting out for the two of them to read. It's interesting how I don't remember her reading to me, yet I certainly remember the books. (I also have to confess that my son made me read the Diggingest Dog so many times that I have hidden it behind all of his other books because I'm sick and tired of reading it.)

  • usagi says:

    Tasha Tudor's book of Fairy Tales. Little Golden Books (especially a book about a cat called Peppermint). But above all, three three-ring binders of Walt Disney's Comics and Stories and Uncle Scrooge. They contained the original publication of many of Carl Barks's duck stories. Classics in every sense of the word.

  • anon (Jenny) says:

    I'm a regular reader/commenter,but I have to be anonymous for this one. This is my book (after some google-fu):

    it had kittens and the ocean and my name! Also, the protagonist looked exactly like I did at about 3 years old. I loved this book so much.

    I came from a family that collected books and read with a passion, but almost nobody in my extended family (other than my parents) went to college. So I never confused being literate and well read with being formally educated.

  • Lab Rat says:

    My parents read to me (and my sister) every night until I was about 12! They would alternate every night, my dad one night, my mum the next, and usually chose which stories they would read to us. I still can remember many of the books they read to us; including (rather hillariously) my dad once reading "animal farm" - to two girls aged 10 and 8! We were both very upset when Boxer died, but it wasn't until years later I actually understood all the meanings behind that book.

  • Abby says:

    My favorite books that my dad read to us were the Pooh books -- Winnie the Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner, and also AA Milne's verse books, When We Were Very Young and Now We Are Six.

    But until I was in middle school, I never had a single favorite book -- there were far too many choices. There are multitudes of children's books in my parents' attic waiting for my future offspring.

  • Chris says:

    I remember that one of my favorite books as a first grader was Go Dog, Go!, another non Seuss Seuss book by Eastman. Before that I had other books I could read like Disney's version of Alice in Wonderland, and some fairy tale books (usually read in temporary quarters since that was a time my father was sent to various places because he was in the Army, I went to kindergarten in three states, and first grade in two... a total of four states in two years, ending up in California when he went to Vietnam).

    When he came back from Vietnam he was not surprised that my mother had bought us a set of World Book Encyclopedias. I was told because I asked too many questions, so they finally had a set answer: Go look it up! I used to read them for entertainment.

    Most of my memories of my mother were the Sundays spent reading on my parent's big bed. She would take me to the library and we would check out many books, she usually did mysteries. In old family films taken by her father when she was younger, she was always reading a book. Family photos by my dad show her often reading a book.

    Sadly she died when I was eleven years old. Oddly, my daughter looks much like her. She also is a reader, and was even in a winning reading team in both 4th and 5th grade ( Which made me miss my mother even more.

    And, yes, I did read Go Dog, Go! several times to my daughter (and my sons) when they were young!

    • grrljock says:

      @Chris, "Go, Dog. Go!" was also a favorite of mine, along with "Are You My Mother?". I particularly love the party scene at the end. I still sometimes say "It's morning, time to wake up. Go, dogs. Go!" to my son.

  • Zuska says:

    Comment lost during our server problems:

    Becca commented at 2010/09/02 at 11:24 PM:

    "How to grow a becca:
    Begin with The Owl and the Pussycat (it’s in verse, and so it was the first book I ‘read’, that is the first one I memorized and then recognized the words. Even “runcible”)

    Sprinkle in a pinch of Strega Nona, The Monster at the End of this Book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Pooh bear, and messing about in boats (Wind in the Willows)
    Don’t forget Amelia Bedelia and Mrs. Piggle Wiggle
    (all books my mother read to me)

    side note: Chris, it’s so funny you mentioned the Disney Alice in Wonderland. I remember my mom reading that to me, rather reluctantly, several times. When I choose it, it was always because it was the LONGEST book I had (at the time), not because I liked it best per se.

    The authors that were most important to me, early on:
    Laura Ingalls Wilder (my mom read all the little house books to me, most of them many times)
    Beverly Cleary (particularly Ramona the Pest- wore that book out)
    Judy Blume (Particularly Otherwise Known as Shelia the Great- also worn through)
    C.S. Lewis (for Narnia and most ESPECIALLY The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and Reepicheep. I think these were the first books I actively acquired with my own money.)

    A.M. Montgomery (not just Anne of Green Gables, but I think all of her books. I heart the Emily series)
    Madeleine L’Engle (most importantly A Wrinkle in Time and it’s sequels and “A Ring of Endless Light”)
    Louisa May Alcott
    Patricia Wrede

    Julie of the Wolves
    The Giver
    The Midwife’s Apprentice

  • Dorotha Ruthstrom says:

    I was thrilled to find your "How to Grow a Zuska" and see the book I'M SUZY acclaimed as one of your favorite childhood books. I found your blog last night when I entered my name to see what popped up and there was your blog. I am the author of I'M SUZY. It was written for my daughter (who is now 51) named Susan but always called Suzy. She was 4 when the book was published and was so elated she immediately ran to neighbor's houses showing the beautiful book that was all about her.

    One evening, after reading the stack of library books we had on hand, I told Suzy I would write a story just for her. Thus, I'M SUZY was conceived. I had no idea what to do with my story even though I knew it was good. I went to a variety store that sold mass market books such as Golden Books, Whitman Tell-A-Tale books, etc. I found the publisher's address in one of the Whitman books, submitted my manuscript and shortly thereafter received a letter with greeting "Dear Author." Of course, I was extremely proud of that little book when it was published (and still am) and adore the precious illustrations that were so perfect for my Suzy. I'm so happy to hear that the book has been appreciated by others. That means much more than the few dollars I received for my story.

    • Zuska says:

      I am beyond thrilled to hear from you! I'M SUZY was one book I would never let go. It sits upstairs now in a place of pride on my bookshelf, displayed face-front. Thank you so much for writing that book, and for coming here to comment on my blog. Count me as one of your biggest fans!

  • Suzanne says:

    I'm Suzy is my most treasured book. I received from my Grandma. I would never let it go. My Grandma loved me and this book was so special to me. Like Zuska, above I am going to find a special place to display it.

    Suzanne (Suzi)