As we approach the 6th birthday of WritingRedux, I’ve cast my mind back to the year I turned six and the books I was given and reading at that time. We had several Christopher Robin books at home and so Now We Are Six was a permanent presence.
In addition, in 1970, presumably before I turned seven, my mother gave me the Faber hardback edition of Stories for Six-Year Olds which I still have and treasure, alongside an assortment of old Winnie-the-Pooh tomes kept or bought since. She wrote inside the cover and I was delighted to find an image of the dust-jacket, long since lost on my copy, but instantly recalled when I saw it.
I have a third book, given to me the Christmas I was six, by my grandfather, with a dedication in his fine hand. He and my mother were probably most responsible for creating a love of books in us. This one is called Allsorts 2, part of an annual series, and I still love the cover illustration. Look at that classic late 60s, early 70s lettering in the title, and the boy’s duffle coast and the girl’s cape … it was a time when my mother always wore a cape in winter, not unlike this one.
So, let these books stand for the joys of reading on the day we are able to celebrate another 6th birthday.
Remember that we launched WritingRedux on St Jordi’s Day, when you can give someone the gift of a book or hand them a rose. If you do, let me know which book you gave to whom, and why, I’d love to hear.
And let’s take encouragement from the closing poem of Now We Are Six:
When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three,
I was hardly Me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five,
I was just alive.
But now I am Six, I’m as clever as clever.
So I think I’ll be six now for ever and ever.