Half Magic – Cindy Hval

Each note felt like meeting a new friend.

The responses to my previous column about how February is Library Lovers month proved once again that book people are my tribe. I asked readers to share their favorite books from childhood, ones they enjoy revisiting. The replies served as a reminder of how important it is to introduce our children to books and to cultivate an appreciation of the value and importance of public libraries.

For example, Ginny Lathem started reading at 5 and said it remains her best form of escape. She had many childhood books she adored, but her favorite was one she received from folks on her 6th birthday–“Mother West Wind Stories” By Thornton E. Burgess.

“I remember the inscription my Dad wrote to me inside. I remembered that book opened up a portal of wonder, amazement, and comfort to me,” she wrote. “I’m 69 and have a rather extensive library even after donating 13 boxes of books. Even now, opening up a new book brings me joy.”

However, one memory doesn’t bring joy.

“When I was in college my Dad remarried. He and his new wife built a home and they decided to give all my books away,” Lathem recalled. “I’ll always remember his response when I asked why they didn’t save them for me or even ask if I wanted them. ‘Why Gin, they were just old books.’ ”

It seems her dad wasn’t a reader.

Tricia Stone had a similar experience. Growing up in the Bay Ridge neighborhood of Brooklyn, New York, her love of books overrode everything else and libraries offered peaceful reading escapes. Her favorite book was “Strawberry Girl” by Lois Lenski.

“I regret that when we moved to Burbank, CA, books were NOT thought ‘barrel worthy’ and left behind for other cousins,” she said.

Janice Verdugo wrote that her favorite book was “Half Magic” by Edward Eager.

“I’m 70, so it may be out of print!” she said.

And Margo Buckles grew up in a family that like mine cherished public libraries. When she left home her father told her to get a library card because it would save her countless dollars over the years.

“Books were always gifts at our house. Everyone in my family read constantly, she said. “My mother read in the bathroom to avoid children and housework. My father read and reread Patrick O’Brian’s books about Jack Aubrey and the British Navy. I think that reading kept him sane after a debilitating stroke in his late 60s.”

Her aunt’s traditional birthday gifts were books.

“I eagerly awaited the package and was rewarded with books like “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes” and “The Count of Monte Cristo,” Buckles recalled.

But her favorite is also one of mine.

“My favorite childhood book is “The Secret Garden,” by Frances Hodgson Burnett. The story of two unpleasant children – a spoiled girl and a sickly boy – who find a secret garden where they learn to love nature, themselves and others, speaks to me to this day,” she said. “I read it as a child and have reread it as an adult. It is magical.”

Magic. That’s the essential essence of stories that take us out of our everyday lives and into the realm of pretend and possibilities. So, I wasn’t surprised to learn that other readers enjoyed “The Velvet Room” as much as I did.

“I could not believe you talked about ‘The Velvet Room’ in today’s paper!” wrote Mary Fisher. “My best friend and I read that book at around the age of 10, as well. I became a part of that book, it was the very first book I read that drew me in and made me a reader for life.”

Debbi Irvine-Collins agreed.

“I about fell out of my chair while reading your article today. I was also around 10 years old when in the mid-’60s, I found ‘The Velvet Room’ at the library and fell in love with the story. I wanted to find my own turret library to read in and escape to.”

She discovered a 1975 seventh-edition paperback for $10 on Craigslist.

“I keep it in my nightstand so I’ll never lose it. Thank you for bringing back such a great memory. I’ll read it again.”

The book she found was the same as the copy I’d purchased at the Scholastic Book Fair in 1975.

Imagine my delight when last week, the day before my birthday, I received a well-read book fair copy of “The Velvet Room” in the mail!

Becky Luther from St. Maries said her sister had stored her copy for years and she was happy to send it on to me.

Tears filled my eyes when I opened the envelope and found my favorite childhood book. It felt like my long-lost best friend had returned.

If you’re a reader, you know exactly what I mean. And honestly, shouldn’t every month be Library Lovers Month?

Cindy Hval can be reached at dchval@juno.com. Hval is the author of “War Bonds: Love Stories from the Greatest Generation” (Casemate Publishers, 2015) available at Auntie’s Bookstore and bookstores nationwide.

In my previous column, I wondered if a love of literacy was hardwired in our family DNA. All four of my sons are book lovers like me. I invited readers to share their bookish memories, and it seems that many of you also caught the reading bug young and have no desire to be cured.

Christy Himmelright of the Tri-Cities wrote “I have all the Little Golden Books that my parents bought and read to me. My very favorite was ‘All Aboard!’ about a train trip from home to see Grandma. The protagonist was a girl, and that was almost impossible to find in any adventure story. Also, it appeared that she was an only child (as I am), so identifying with her happened on a very personal level.”

Like me, Himmelright eagerly anticipated trips to the library.

“The best time was summer vacation when I could go to our little town library and check out the maximum number of books that I could read in two weeks. It seems that I was trudging back there often before the two weeks were up and loading up again with the next selection. I also participated in the summer reading contests, and clearly remember the ‘trail’ that wound through the Reading Forest. It started at the checkout desk and meandered along the top of the walls that showed above the box shelves. To go each time I went into the library and find my marker as it moved along the trail was a thrill that I still feel in my long-ago child’s heart.”

Her lifelong love of the written word endures.

“To this day, I have at least two or three books at my living room chair-side, and one on my nightstand for bedtime relaxation,” she wrote. “I cannot imagine life without books, especially the real ones of paper and binding and covers.”

Patricia Garvin of Spokane recalled the magical moment when words came alive for her.

“In 1948, I was in the first grade. We students had a workbook in which there was a story; we were to remove the pages, which folded on dotted lines, into a small booklet. I vividly recall sitting next to my mother and reading the story to her. I still see the line drawings and remember reading to her, ‘…and down the hill came Wee Woman.’ She was as delighted as I!”

Beverly Gibb of Spokane still has a copy of the first book she remembers her mother reading to her.

“My first reading experience was Mom reading me ‘Winnie the Pooh.’ We both loved Piglet the best,” she wrote. “My favorite books were ‘Anne of Green Gables.’ I’m guessing your boys didn’t read those!”

She guessed correctly. My sons didn’t embrace Anne, but on Christmas morning a couple of years ago, my oldest gave me the complete “Anne of Green Gables” collection. He knows how to delight his mama.

Sometimes literature love leads to book-custody issues. That’s what happened to Bernadette Powers of Helena.

She recalled parents joining the Weekly Readers Book Club, which delivered books directly to their door.

“I was in hog heaven getting books in the mail. I still have most of them including my all-time favorite, ‘Half Magic’ by Edward Eager,” she wrote. “The story is delightful and the illustrations are amazing. It also became a favorite of my son, Gannon. He appropriated it when he went off to college. When I went to visit him I appropriated it back. We’ve been stealing it back and forth ever since. He moved from Seattle to California a few years ago. There’s a small part of me that suspects he made the move so it would be harder for me to steal my book.”

Joan Becker, who grew up in Spokane, wrote of her eagerness to start first grade, so she could learn to read. Her best friend was a year older and would read comics to her as long as they were getting along, but if they disagreed? No more comics for Joan.

When she could decipher words by herself, the material the school provided proved disappointing.

“Dick and Jane stories comprised the love and hate relationship of others selecting my reading agenda,” she wrote. “After Dick and Jane made their debut, their interactions were way too repetitive to be captivating. I couldn’t wait to purchase my own comic books and go to the library.”

All who responded still retain their passion for the written word.

“As my 90th birthday approaches, I remember as a 9- or 10- year- old growing up in Capitol Hill in Seattle, going on the bus by myself downtown to the library. In those days there were no branch libraries, and it also seemed OK for a little girl to go alone on the bus,” wrote Muriel Rubens. “My parents read to me as I was growing up, as did my two older brothers and sister. I learned to read at an early age, and I loved it and haven’t stopped since,”

As I write, my suitcase sits open beside me. I’m packing for a trip to Ohio to see my twin grandsons, aka “The World’s Most Beautiful Boys.”

My husband glanced at the mound of stuff I intend to pack. Board books for the boys and a paperback for their big sister lay scattered among clothes. My own stack of reading material teetered nearby.

“You’re never going to fit all that in your suitcase,” he said.

He may be right.

However, one thing is certain, even if I have to wear the same outfit every day for a week; the books are coming with me.