On Sunday—MOTHER’S DAY—my mother gave me quite a special present.
But first we have to backtrack to a few weeks ago when…
…my daughter, husband and I watched Goodbye Christopher Robin, a film about the writer A.A. Milne, and what happened after he created that lovable Winnie-the-Pooh character, along with Christopher Robin, who was based on his own son. While the story was melancholy to say the least, it made me remember fondly my love for Pooh. My daughter loved Pooh, too, and carried around Lumpy, the Heffalump, as a small child. She loved Lumpy more than anything.
So back to my mother’s gift…
As a kid, I had the four-book collection that A.A. Milne wrote in hardback. I asked my mother if she still had them. She said she wasn’t sure, that she may have given them away.
You know what’s coming…
On Mother’s Day, I opened my gifts, and at the bottom of the bag was something heavy. Bound together with a pretty ribbon were the Pooh books that were mine as a kid, and I will cherish them forever. I love books, and keep a small library of my favorites, often lending them to friends, unless, of course, they are super sentimental, and then, they have to remain at my house. Pride & Prejudice, A Christmas Carol, and Austen’s collection are among those, now with the A.A. Milne collection, that cannot be checked out from the Verni Library.
Winnie-the-Pooh stories remind us of innocence. Of friendship. Of the love that happens between friends that is good and pure and sweet. The books remind us that often the simple things in life are to be treasured and valued. Winnie-the-Pooh reminds us of our own childhoods, growing pains, and of finding our place in the world.
So…
The books are on my shelf, if you’d like to come and peruse them for a while.