Books, My First Love
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Oh, that wonderful Christmas when I made it known that I only wanted books! They were my first love, my best friends - no other gift would do. My mother had decreed that there was no Santa Claus. She wanted me to appreciate the things that were given to me and the persons who gave them. Therefore, I didn’t have to depend on a nebulous fantasy figure. I could use my wiles on flesh and blood relatives. The day came and with it a lovely pile of books greeted me; different sizes, different colors, fiction and not-fiction. There was one that caught my eye immediately. Its red cover called to me and when I snatched it up it even smelled delicious. The book was Letters to Channy. I have it now and when I hold it, and sniff it, that delightful childhood Christmas is recalled once more. This was written as an exercise in Memoir class, using the words book, love, red, only and mother.
1930s
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