Winnie-the-Pooh, A.A. Milne

I’m named after my grandmother, and everybody says I have her eyes. I’m not sure about that, but I know that I have her copy of Winnie-the-Pooh. It seemed appropriate to wrap up Bookstravaganza 2012 with something that would physically connect me to my Nanny, who, though I never met her, has influenced just about every part of my life. Reading is one of my chief activities; I am humbled to meet my grandmother between the pages of a book. 

How did I make it to twenty-three without reading this? My (her) copy is a beautiful book – not long, but heavy, and the illustrations are charming. Charming, probably, is the best word to describe Milne’s writing. He writes with tenderness and wit and you can see how vivid this world was for his son, the real Christopher Robin. But who’s to say whether the character is any less real? This book is a perfect place to lose yourself and let imagined worlds become reality. Pooh-bears can talk and donkeys lose their tails and piglets are stranded by flood. I will come back to this book, again and again. 

I could read another book tonight – there’s time! But I am choosing to end here. This is the end of my month of books, here among the pages that were passed from my Nanny to my mother to me. It’s a good ending.

Final Count: 31

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One response to “Winnie-the-Pooh, A.A. Milne

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