Some of my favorite classic children’s books. These just bring me back. I’m sure they’ll bring you back, too…

“Caps for Sale.” This is such a simple book. In fact, it’s basic. The illustrations are simple. The story is simple. And yet, my oldest asks for it over and over. I think it must be those troublesome monkeys.

“Corduroy.” One of the books I recall reading over and over with my own mother, as a child. Story never gets old. I love that little bear. And I love sharing his story with my girls.

“The Story of Ferdinand.” Love this one. A teacher in 1st grade whom I adored introduced the class to this sweet little bull, and from then on, I was hooked. Eventually, I forgot about the book. And then, while searching for another classic from my past, I stumbled across it, bought it and read it in the car as soon as I left the story. And I found that sometimes? I am just a sap. When Ferdinand is in the bullfighting ring? Smelling flowers? And not fighting? It makes my heart smile.

“The House on East 88th Street.” Remember Lyle Crocodile? Well this is the first book in the series. And as soon as it arrived, I couldn’t believe how clear the story still was in my mind. So much so that I could see the next page’s illustration before I even turned the page. And I remembered the name of the “villain,” before I even got to his part in the story. Who could ever forget Hector P. Valenti, Star of Stage and Screen?

“The Little House.” This one goes way back. My mother read it as a child. And then I read it. And now my own girls read it. We’re talking generations here. It’s the most innocent little story about… a house. But the parallels between real life and the life of this house is uncanny. And quite moving. I love this story. I love it so much that I’ve read it by myself, to myself, long after Pea and Coco have turned in for the night.

“The Story About Ping.” Remember Ping? The little duck? Who didn’t want to be last? And then was last? And his ensuing adventures, all to escape that swat on his bottom?

And the last one is pure nostalgia. My mother introduced it to me. It’s called “The Brave Cowboy.” You might recognize the pencil illustrations by Joan Walsh Anglund. Just charming and simple and sweet as can be. If you know a little boy, this is the book to pass along to him. It’s the power of imagination.

Happy reading…