I am in the midst of writing a piece on Charles Perrault for
an upcoming issue of our community magazine. It will commemorate the
anniversary of Perrault’s birth. (I’ll post the finished piece to this blog on
January 12, 2018, his 390th birthday.) In telling the story of this
Father of the Fairy Tale, I wrote the following:
“Parents no longer tell fairy tales
to entertain and enlighten their children. In this age of almost universal
literacy, we’ve books and electronic devices to provide the lessons. We read to
our little ones, rather than make up stories.”
That reminded me that I was a lucky
child, in that I had a father who did tell me stories at bedtime. I don’t
remember them exactly. There were quite a number of them, but I’ve always
remembered that they were about the adventures of two children whose names were
Inge and Christopher. Is it any wonder that those two names have always been
special to me? I picture him sitting beside me on my bed - my earliest
childhood memory. I couldn’t have a better one.
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