Where the Wild Things Are
It seems that while I was taking my last final this morning I was blissfully unaware that Maurice Sendak passed away today.
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In case you didn't know, Where the Wild Things Are happens to be one of my most favorite books of all time ever. It holds a special place in my heart.
You also might not know that I have a nephew who is a very special kid. He comes with his own special set of needs. This summer I really wanted to find a book that I could read with him where he would actually sit and pay attention, and let me finish a page before trying to move on to the next one, and maybe even start to repeat some of the words he heard me saying.
I knew that Where the Wild Things Are would be that book. It was, once I found it in my sister's room and read it to my niece and nephew. This became a daily occurrence, often multiple times per day. My niece began memorizing it of course, at nap time she wanted me to read it to her and then she would repeat it back to me. When the wild rumpus would start we would jump around the room. The thing that made me happiest was hearing my nephew say in his adorable voice, "wild thing!" As a forest grew and grew in Max's room he'd point at the trees and say, "tree!" then point at the moon and say, "it's a moon!" What a great book.
So now it seems that Maurice has stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of another room. I hope he found his supper waiting for him and I hope it was still hot. Thank you Mr. Sendak for showing us where the wild things are, I am forever in your debt.
.JPG)
In case you didn't know, Where the Wild Things Are happens to be one of my most favorite books of all time ever. It holds a special place in my heart.
You also might not know that I have a nephew who is a very special kid. He comes with his own special set of needs. This summer I really wanted to find a book that I could read with him where he would actually sit and pay attention, and let me finish a page before trying to move on to the next one, and maybe even start to repeat some of the words he heard me saying.
I knew that Where the Wild Things Are would be that book. It was, once I found it in my sister's room and read it to my niece and nephew. This became a daily occurrence, often multiple times per day. My niece began memorizing it of course, at nap time she wanted me to read it to her and then she would repeat it back to me. When the wild rumpus would start we would jump around the room. The thing that made me happiest was hearing my nephew say in his adorable voice, "wild thing!" As a forest grew and grew in Max's room he'd point at the trees and say, "tree!" then point at the moon and say, "it's a moon!" What a great book.
So now it seems that Maurice has stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of another room. I hope he found his supper waiting for him and I hope it was still hot. Thank you Mr. Sendak for showing us where the wild things are, I am forever in your debt.
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