Do you remember the favorite book of your youth?

A friend of mine, who has long been retired from her career as an elementary public school educator, was reminiscing recently about her days in the classroom, and the stories she read aloud to her students.

Her favorites were the “Little Britches” books by Ralph Moody, autobiographical accounts of Moody moving west with his family in 1906 to a Colorado ranch and the many adventures that followed.

She said she found that no matter where she was teaching — and no matter the age or background of her elementary students — those stories resonated.

In fact, she recently had a former student come by to talk about the books that he first heard her read aloud more than 50 years ago.

Some of my own best and most vivid elementary school memories revolve around books that were read aloud.

As a third grader at Dora Elementary in Ada Marie Stephens’ classroom, I was completely absorbed in the Happy Hollisters series by Jerry West, lighthearted tales about a family of clever mystery-solving children.

I idolized 10-year-old Pam, the second oldest of the five Hollister children.

Oh, to be 10, I remember wishing. Oh, to be named Pam.

Two years later, our fifth-grade teacher Billy Prater guided us through all nine of the original “Little House on the Prairie” books by Laura Ingalls Wilder.

We began that fall with “Little House in the Big Woods,” and by May, Laura and Alonzo were all grown up and married and living out their lives in “These Happy Golden Years.”

In a small school with one teacher per grade, teachers develop reputations that are passed down to the lower grades so you walk in the door of a new year with expectations.

Sixth graders at Dora for decades walked into Jessie Lee Dunn’s class knowing that during the year we would hear her read aloud “The Yearling” by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings.

We were Mrs. Dunn’s last class as she completed her 35-year career at Dora. Almost every day as we reached the last 10 or 15 minutes before bus time, she’d have us clean off our desks and sit back to listen to a few pages of “The Yearling.” We were welcome to lay our heads down on our desks if we chose, or simply sit quietly. Doodling was also allowed, as long as it was quiet.

We relished that time (or at least I did), even as we knew (from all who came before us) that by the end of the year we would be reduced to tears (or at least I was) by this wrenching childhood classic.

The best part of classroom read-alouds?

To me, it was the daily experience of setting aside the tools of education to focus on only one thing: Listening to a beloved voice read aloud a story in which we were collectively immersed.

I dare say most of us have a favorite tucked away on the dusty bookshelves of our memories. I wonder if you remember yours.

Betty Williamson would still happily lay her head on her desk for a daily read aloud. Reach her at:

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