Books My Mother Read to Me

There's never been a time in my life when I wasn't around books. I was read to before I learned myself and read with after that. My mother made it a point that there were always plenty of books at home for me and my brother. One of the highlights of my childhood was our library trips, even if I did usually end up checking out the same books over and over. (I have read Lou Gehrig: Iron Man of Baseball at least 27 times...and cry every single time.) Even after we were well-able to read on our own, Michael and I would choose books for Mama to read to us. Out of everything we ever heard, nothing ever beat Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle.

In case you are unfamiliar, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle is a series of books created by Betty MacDonald. (This is the same Betty MacDonald who wrote The Egg & I and introduced the world to Ma & Pa Kettle of movie fame.) She was a sweet old lady who loved children and lived in an upside-down house. Parents would consult Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle for help with their children and their bad habits. These children had all sorts of different maladies. There was the Radish Cure where a little girl refused to take a bath. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's advice was to not make her, let her be as dirty as she wanted. Then, one night when she was really good and filthy, go in while she was asleep and plant radish seeds on her arms. Eventually, the radishes sprouted and the little girl decided she would rather take a bath than have plants growing on her. In the Selfishness Cure, she told the parents of a selfish little boy to label everything he owned with his name and "Don't Touch." This worked well for a while until he found out that he also wasn't allowed to touch anything that didn't have his name on it. He couldn't play with friends or even pet the family dog. That's when he changed his mind. Our absolute favorite was The Thought-You-Saiders Cure. I remember laughing hysterically at the mixed-up phrases the kids would say. The dad asked "Where is my briefcase?" One child said, "I thought you said leaf race." One child said, "I thought you said thief's face." The other child said, "I thought you said meat paste." Several more instances like this occurred until the exasperated mother called Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle who gave her a powder to put into her children's ears so they could hear every little thing. Spiders crawling on the ceiling sounded like marching troops. Cracker crumbs sounded like boulders rolling down a hill. After this, the children began paying more attention.

Some of my favorite childhood memories are those nights when Mama would come into the bedroom Michael and I shared, pull a chair between our twin beds, and read to us one of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's adventures. I will let you in on a little secret: I am 41 years old and would still sit and listen to my mother read to me as long as she wants. There's always been something so soothing about it. I don't know if it's my mom's voice or the memories it conjures up or exactly what the reasoning is, but, she could read It  or The Shining and I could fall asleep. I have always contended that I had a happy childhood. Looking back, I have discovered that it was so because it was a childhood filled with simple pleasures like bedtime stories. She always stressed to us, as I heard her do to the students in her class many, many times, that if you can read, you can do anything. I believe this. I have already started a collection of books for my future children, some read-alouds and some for them to experience as readers on their own. In this collection, I need to make sure that there is a copy of each of the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle books for Mama Gail to read to them. I want him or her to have the same wonderful childhood experiences that their Uncle Bubba and I did.

I love you, Mama. Thank you for not only the gift of life, but also the gift of reading. Happy Mother's Day.

Donna