Judging a Book by It's Outdated, Groovy Cover

I finally finished reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire to my six-year-old son. At 734 pages, this one was a bear. By the time we got to the end, it was difficult to remember how the book had begun. Since the fifth (and next) volume in the Harry Potter series, The Order of the Phoenix, is the longest (a whopping 870 pages) not to mention a lot more complicated (too much about the Ministry of Magic and other wizard governmental goings-on that my Kindergartener won't understand), we decided to take well-deserved Harry Potter break.

But what to read next? Granny and Papa solved that problem by giving my son a copy of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe over Christmas. But since it's only 179 pages, my son and I got through the whole thing over the long MLK Jr. weekend.

So now we are on to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory--my husband's suggestion (it was one of his favorite books as a kid)--which is all the more appealing to me because I've never read it. It's a fun read so far, but its scant 161 pages means I'll be looking for the next book on Monday.

The psychedelic cover of the copy
I got from the library

I checked this one out of the library...and man-oh-man, did I get an OLD copy! The cover font is right out of "Laugh-In." Every time I look at the book, "The Age of Aquarius" begins playing in my head and I swear I can smell pachouli. (The book was published in 1964 so it's possible this is the original cover.)

And, written on the inside cover in a lovely, no-one-writes-like-that-anymore script is the following inscription:

                        To Gil

                  With love from

                     Aunt June

                  Christmas 1972

At first I thought this was cool: Gil is probably around 50 now and Aunt June is either a senior citizen or maybe even dead. But the more I thought about it, the more it depressed me. 

Who is this Gil person? And why did he not keep and cherish this copy of one of the most popular and beloved children's books, given to him by his doting Aunt June, no less? Sure, it's great that Gil donated the book to the library, but didn't he plan on ever having kids of his own? 

Did Gil ever even read the book? Would Aunt June have been offended if she knew her darling nephew gave away her well-thought-out Christmas gift? Or maybe Gil grew up, moved out of the house, and his parents gave the book away?

I will never know the answers to these questions. But one thing I know for sure is there's no way I'm ever giving away the books my kids' grandparents have lovingly inscribed to them. Those will remain on our bookshelves until my kids have children of their own, at which time my darling grandchildren will inherit them. 

Because there is nothing better than reading to your own kids the books that were read to you as a child. It's a magical thing.