Favorite Children's Stories

I learned to read in the first grade using the Dick and Jane series. We were taught to read by sight, focusing on recognizing whole words rather than sounding them out. The repetitive nature of the series made it easy to grasp this method, and I quickly became an enthusiastic reader. I loved taking turns reading aloud in class and was always the first to volunteer. However, by the end of first grade, the stories became repetitive and boring. But as a 5-year-old, I was enthralled by the introduction to the printed word and its potential to transform my world.

My favorite childhood story was Nancy Drew's The Secret of the Old Clock. It was the first time I encountered a story where a girl was the central character—smart, independent, and capable of solving problems even when adults couldn’t. I saw myself in Nancy Drew: quick to learn, curious, and adept at solving puzzles. At just 4 years old, I taught myself to read music and play the piano after a babysitter showed me the middle C key and how it looked on the music staff. Unfortunately, my parents couldn’t afford lessons, but that didn’t dampen my enthusiasm for learning.

Though I can’t recall the details of The Secret of the Old Clock, I vividly remember how the book looked, how it felt in my hands, and the joy it brought me. Other childhood favorites included The Bobbsey Twins, a series of stories about two sets of fraternal twins and their adventures. I now know that Edward Stratemeyer created this series, along with Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys. These stories captivated me, pulling me into fascinating worlds and leaving me eager to read the next installment.

As a child, books were my escape. They transported me from my bedroom into exciting adventures and faraway places, sparking my creativity and providing a refuge from reality. Growing up in a modest household, I borrowed books from the school library at Lineweaver. My father was ill for as long as I could remember and passed away when I was 10. My mother, the sole provider, worked tirelessly while managing our home. As an adult, I now understand her exhaustion and moments of sharpness. Books filled the emotional gaps left by my parents’ absence, offering both comfort and inspiration.

Reflecting on those childhood stories, I recognize their lack of diversity. The characters mostly resembled me, and if children of color appeared, their portrayals were often steeped in racism that I didn’t recognize at the time. It was a reflection of the era. Thankfully, my grandchildren are growing up in a more inclusive world that celebrates diversity and acceptance.

Norma Maynard, January 05, 2022, rev. November 18, 2023, rev. January 3, 2025