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Beautiful books



We go through a lot of books in our house. We have a lot of books, we borrow a lot of books, we read a lot of books. Books are everywhere, always. Going to the library is one of our favourite things to do (we've checked out 300+ books from our public library since moving here four months ago—and that's not including the books my kids have checked out on their own cards) but for me, the most cherished part of any library trip is when we come home from the library and my children spread their spoils out on the floor and devour them.

There will be books piled up all around them and they read until their minds and hearts are bursting. They read to themselves, they read to each other, and they (endlessly) beg me to read to them.

On our most recent trip to the library we picked up a book by Jean Little (one of my favourite authors) called Pippin the Christmas Pig. It was a sweet story the whole way through (even if those animals were incredibly rude to poor Pippin) but I was completely unprepared to choke up a the end. That line, "All babies are special," had me gone. I wasn't sure I would be able to finish, but despite my voice cracking and all of my sniffles, we made it.

I thought for sure I would be able to do an unemotional reading the next time a child brought me the book, but no. The magic Ms. Little worked into that story got me right in the feels and I cried the next time I read it (and the next).

I hope that this Christmas we can be a little more like Pippin.

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