Not much time to write a proper review, because as I type it’s almost storytime and I need to be reading books to The Four-Year-Old, not writing up reviews of them.
But this week’s book is a classic Winnie-the-Pooh story and there is really very little I need to say about it anyway. So instead of adding another five paragraphs of praise for A. A. Milne to the Webiverse, I will simply say that this may be my favorite paragraph from any book The Four-Year-Old and I have read together thus far:
By the time it came to the edge of the Forest the stream had grown up, so that it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run and jump and sparkle along as it used to do when it was younger, but moved more slowly. For it knew now where it was going, and it said to itself, ‘There is no hurry. We shall get there some day.’ But all the little streams higher up in the Forest went this way and that, quickly, eagerly, having so much to find out before it was too late.
I have yet to find any other passage in all of children’s literature that describes the difference between my stage of life and The Four-Year-Old’s so very well.
And now it’s your turn. What are you reading this week?
Cross-posted on my other blog: BostonWriters.