Thank you, Mr. Sendak
So many people have mentioned Where the Wild Things Are or In the Night Kitchen, but for me, the first image conjured by Maurice Sendak's name is Little Bear. The book was a Christmas gift, probably when I was six, because although I was ready to read much, much earlier, the teacher my mother asked about whether she should teach me to read told her not to, because they would do it the right way when I was old enough for school (ah, the educational philosophy of the early '60s!) But by the time this Christmas rolled around, I knew how to read, thanks to dear Mrs. Corliss.
The cover of this book was both promise and affirmation--"I Can Read." I don't remember what other presents I got that year, but I do remember settling down with this book, which was MINE. For me. To read. By myself. To myself. And that is what I did, I remember sounding out the some of the words and checking them against the picture to make sure I got them right.
Most of all, though, I remember reaching the end, when Little Bear comes back into the house one more time, decked out in his hat, his coat, his mittens, and his boots (if I remember correctly), and tells his mother that he is still cold. She takes everything off and sends him outdoors. Because bears always wear their warm fur coats. As Little Bear headed back outdoors, the look of pure satisfaction on his face made the joke even funnier.
I still remember the feeling as that joke sank in. Not only had I read the story, but that is when I found out--books could be funny. That was the moment I wanted to find more books like that. Because although I liked many other kinds of books, from the Littlest Ballerina to The Tale of Two Bad Mice, reading something funny for the first time was an amazing experience. It wouldn't have been the same without Maurice Sendak's illustrations, either. Little Bear is so expressive, from his eager expression, to the drooping sleeves on his coat when he is still cold. (Of course, now I realize that what he wanted was not warm clothes, but his mother's attention.) And his mother is so understanding and patient, both in gesture and expression. It's not a far stretch from these illustrations to Where the Wild Things Are.
So, thank you, Mr. Sendak, for turning bringing the gift of laughter to my reading. I know the words were Mrs. Minarik's, but they wouldn't be the same without your pictures.