So the holidays are over. I’m being plagued by catalogs reminding me of the things my kids didn’t get (this means you Lego Diagon Alley). But they got plenty. And then some. They’re lucky kids and I think they know it. Still, it doesn’t hurt to remind them, with the aid of a few of our favorite characters, that you can be lucky and blessed by simple things, too — things that come in less than 1,000 pieces. Before I turn into a Bobby McFerrin song, here are two of my go-to chapters:
“Christmas,” from Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
In each stocking there was a pair of bright red mittens, and there was a long, flat stick of red-and-white striped peppermint candy, all beautifully notched along each side. They were all so happy they could hardly speak at first. … But Laura was happiest of all. Laura had a rag doll.
They get to make candy out of molasses, sugar and snow in this chapter, too. We do that, though the kids prefer the milk-vanilla-sugar version. Also, our snow probably isn’t as clean as the snow in 1860’s Wisconsin. Of course by the time the Ingalls move to the prairie they’re spoiled rotten: Think of having a penny for your very own. Think of having a cup and a cake and a stick of candy and a penny.
My other go-to chapter is “Rainy Day Surprise” from All of a Kind Family by Sydney Taylor. The girls go into Papa’s junk shop, where a peddler has just dropped off a load of books. They spend a happy afternoon in the paper section of the shop, searching for children’s books. And they find some, including a whole set of Dickens.
“May we keep them all?” Ella asked. When [Papa] said “Yes,” they could hardly believe their ears. They never thought to own even one book and now they had twelve. It was too wonderful!
My kids will probably hear me read these chapters every year until they’re 18, just like they’ll continue to get The Snowy Day at the start of winter, and The Little Fur Family at the start of fall.
I say it’s for them. To let them visit a different, simpler world. To help them remember what’s important. I say that. But I know that it’s for me, most of all.








