literature
Families and literature go hand in hand; fictional families to entertain, reflect and inspire.
An Ode to Dr. Seuss
Your intelligent humor kept me sane as I occupied the hearts and minds of three little ones while their daddy, a soldier proudly serving in the U.S. Army, was away training men for war. It was the beginning of so many lessons, not only for them, but for me, a young mother in her twenties with hopes and dreams as vast as the stars shining at night. Your books were a way to bond, to establish a bedtime ritual, to promote creativity in all of our minds, to bring laughter and rhyme in a world of military uniforms and tanks, and color to gray days of missing the most important man in our lives.
By Donnalisa Madrigal5 years ago in Families
Circle
Their suite was on the 100th floor, and the hotel elevator wasn’t working. “Once there were four friends—Ashish, Sonu, Pawan and Anand” my father started the story. “Every year, they used to travel to a new city for vacations, to retreat from their mundane lives. This year, they chose to visit a city called Circle.”
By Varun Yadav5 years ago in Families
Slow And Steady Wins The Race
Slow And Steady Wins The Race The Tortoise And The Hare was the only story I remember that my mom read to me. In my opinion, this story sucks, but it has a good moral. Before I say that I am gonna rant about how much it sucks. As a young chap, this was my go-to bed story, when I was seven. It was a simple story and wasn’t confusing. That was great because I could read at all in the first grade. But now that I am reading it back, the story kind of sucks, it’s still my favorite and it will always have a place in my heart for this story.
By Burnt Baguettes5 years ago in Families
Harry Potter and the Three Steps of Growing Up
In Sault Ste Marie, my remote Canadian hometown, we got everything late. Movies came out months after their release in the US; books were released later and at much higher prices; television shows took longer to catch on; even fashions reached us by the time they were obsolete elsewhere. It’s almost as if the radio-waves themselves had to take to the highways and make the long trek up north through the snow and trees, finally reaching our movie theaters and TV sets panting and sweaty.
By Eric Dovigi5 years ago in Families
Bed Time Story Challenge
Growing up I loved to read the silliest little stories. Some stories I read because they had cute little pictures in them. Other stories were because the main character had an imaginary friend. As I grew up, the stories I read became more mature and tended to be a bit on melancholic side. When I was in elementary school my teacher assigned us a list of books to read. If we could read all these books by the end of the week and make a report on my favorite one, then we'd get candy at the end of the day. Your typical strategy to get kids to read and write. Fortunately for me, I had already read most of the books on that list. But there was a few that I hadn't read before so I still had some homework to do. One of these unread books was titled "The Giving Tree." Searching around my school library, I was able to find the picture book. The first think I noticed was the mostly green cover, and a little boy looking up at a tree. It was relatively thin so I thought I had no problem of reading it within the hour.
By Crystal L.5 years ago in Families
A bedtime story, a goodnight song, and a sweet sleep
What I remember most about bedtime is a story and a song. After the customary bedtime story, my father would sing me to sleep with Puff the Magic Dragon and he would slip in the names of my two older sisters and myself. In my head, it was always Zach the Magic Dragon. Thirty years later and those memories still make me smile.
By Floyd Doolittle5 years ago in Families
Roots of Growth
Being thirty years old now and taking this moment to reflect on a story I remember from my childhood is honestly quite nerve-wracking. My childhood has a few gleaming treasures amidst the tarnished stain on my life. Not to be so hyperbolic, but emotional and physical abuse were heavily strewn about my life.
By Thor Grey (G. Steven Moore)5 years ago in Families
Nanny's In My Toe
Every story has its own unique origin and a purpose, meaningful to the writer and fans. As a child I wanted to create worlds that younger children could escape into and experience the magic that gets lost along the way. I wanted the wonder to endure, to take them on fantastical journeys, and help them to believe anything is possible. I would play Santa’s assistant with my invisible magic teleportation watch that harnessed the power of Santa Claus to transport me to the North Pole and back. Before any time had passed at all here, in the more mundane world, I had spent hours with Santa and was able to bring back tales of my daring adventures. I shared horror stories around an imaginary campfire within the barred depths of an abandoned aviary and took my friends along with my friends through the doors on the trampoline that only I could see, doors that led us to countless universes, almost identical to our own but always with a terrifying twist.
By Bree Beadman5 years ago in Families
A Tale In A Far Away Land
There have been many tales read in nighttime hours to bring children to bed. Tales of Princes, Barmaids, fairies, and Pirates. Of great balls, and wicked masquerades of true love kisses, and wishes. Has there been a greater tale than that of Sleeping Beauty? For me, the tale of Sleeping Beauty hidden behind the walls of thorn bushes the Prince racing to save her, and the sorceress turning into a great hulking dragon to stand in his way. This tale has been told and retold in many ways. Sometimes it’s been a hundred years since anyone has entered this fortress determined to save the lady fair. In these modern times, the story has been rewritten from a romance to a tale of love between mother and daughter. The sweet Aurora being awakened by Maleficent herself. Of all the different versions the one that has stayed with me the most was one told first by my mother, and one I have retold to many nieces during New year’s celebrations.
By InkGalaxies~5 years ago in Families
Freedomeers
It gets harder and harder to believe in freedom, but we still have the illusion that freedom can exist. We, the Freedomeers, hear tales of how this land was once free, and to me, it is just fairy tales. I am what is known as a truly free person, and often looked at in awe. My parents fell in love and gave birth naturally. In the cities, one must register and be pre-approved by the State in order to procreate. From the moment someone is born, they have a tax burden of 2.5 Trillion dollars, which must be paid in full, before they have their own rights and privileges. This takes most individuals their entire life to pay, gaining a couple years of freedom when they are too feeble to enjoy or get out of bed. The Freedomeers believe that one should be free from birth. I am viewed as unique, amongst the Freedomeers, but I think of the constant fighting and running as a type of control. My parents fought for freedom, as did their parents. My great-great-great grandparents were known as defectors. They were part of the original Land of Free movement. It was the twenty-second century when the, then United States of America, began to mimic signs of socialism, and wanting to have all of its constituents ruled and had laws in which could imprison someone for years for no reason, under the guise of safety and/or freedom. Neighbors would report on neighbors, and cops became non-existent as they kept getting placed in prison for enforcing laws. Then the military took over, and the citizens had no rights. People were being shot in the street, and families torn apart because of political views. The west coast was constantly on fire, where people left by the millions and moved east. My great-great-great grandparents and a few hundred thousand, of the billion Americans, moved west. They began by building canals and ravines to push water from the oceans and lakes of the north to the south to allow the ground to become saturated. They allowed the fires to continue to burn, and fed the underbrush to the fires that bordered the east lands, becoming known as the Land of the Free, and the State on the opposite side. Creating a clear DO NOT CROSS line.
By Ree Edmunds5 years ago in Families
