Tell me a story. . .

When we lived in Ottawa, I took William — then a toddler — to the theatre to see Robert Munsch. The theatre was full of parents and kids, kids ranging from babes-in-arms to 12-year-olds. It was mostly pandemonium with a high-decibel count but it was great fun. My own toddler contributed his share — and more — to the racket and my only regret about the afternoon is that he was too young to remember it.

He loved Robert Munsch though and Robert was very adept at getting the attention of his audience and we all enjoyed the participatory elements.

William's favourite Munsch story was Mortimer. . .

. . .as so often with Munsch, a subversive story in which the kid outwits the grown-ups and kids, of course, find this most satisfying. At the concert, Robert asked all of us in the audeience to sing "Clang clang rattle-bing-bang" in the tune we used at home. We all sang as loud as we could — kids too — and of course, everyone's tune was different and it couldn't have been funnier.

Clang clang rattle-bing-bang

Gonna make my noise all day!

I enjoyed seeing what Robert said about Mortimer:

Once I was telling stories at a school in Toronto. It was not a fun school. The principal ran around looking very mean; the teachers ran around looking very mean; and the kids ran around looking very unhappy. I don’t think anybody got along very well in that school. At the end of the day I told stories to all of the kids and when I was done the principal got up and started yelling at the kids, telling them how they were going to be quiet and go back to their rooms and not cause any trouble. When he was done talking all the kids were silent for a second and then they all started to sing, “Clang, clang, rattle-bing bang.” Well the principal was really freaked out. I decided it was time to go.

Robert asked the audience to sing together again, this time, the mother's song from Love You Forever.

I’ll love you forever,

I’ll like you for always,

as long as I’m living

my baby you’ll be.

Once again, everyone sang with a different tune but the atmosphere was much different. Many of us acknowledged that we simply couldn't read Love You Forever without dissolving into tears before we finished the book. The kids weren't impressed and didn't understand but maybe they will someday.

Living in Ottawa, we had access to TVO and it was there we became acquainted with another fellow who became a favourite: Fireman Sam. Sam seemed to be — and was — a very simple and innocent guy. The stories were straightforward and suited a small person and who wouldn't enjoy becoming familiar with a village called Pontypandy?

At that time, Fireman Sam books were not available in Canada and we had to order them from the UK. We still get an occasional email letting us know when a new title comes out. That makes us all feel a little sentimental.

In Halifax, we lived on a busy downtown street where traffic passed our front windows day and night. One of our favourite books from that time was Night Cars.

It is late at night in the city. From his father's shoulder, a sleepless baby watches the snow drift down from the sky onto the busy street below. What are all those noises? What are all those lights? His tired but patient father explains everything, from the bustle of taxis swishing through the slush to the grinding and slamming of the early-morning garbage trucks.

The book had a very moody quality and was lovely to read. It was written by Teddy Jam, the pen name of author Matt Cohen.

And there were Goodnight Moon and The Velveteen Rabbit and Katy and the Big Snow and any number of books about trucks, diggers, bulldozers and all manner of heavy equipment. Not to mention sports, fairy tales, fables, legends and the classics.

Nothing though took over every room in the house like the little blue engine called Thomas.

We first saw him on TVO as well. His ascent had begun but at that time, he was still a fairly unknown little engine. The first books we got were still the small oblong hard-cover books by The Rev. Wilbert Awdry and many of the engines had not yet made an appearance.

Thomas did get very big indeed but at our house, after the books, the trains and the tracks were all that were needed.

(We had lots more tracks than are shown in this Internet picture.)

Every day when William came home from school, a new configuration of tracks would begin to take shape. The tracks ran under the chairs and around the legs of the coffee table. They often straddled two rooms and we all learned how to get around the house without disrupting the goings-on on the Island of Sodor. In short, Thomas, Percy, Edward, Gordon, Henry, James, Emily, Rosie and Sir Topham Hatt all became valued members of the family and they all had their place.

Most of the childhood books have been given away to other children or sold at book sales for good causes. Not the Thomas books though. William decided at a certain point that he would keep them and they would accompany him on his life's journey, wherever that may take him. The books are carefully packed into a box with the trains and tracks, a few videotapes and maybe a CD, and the beautiful Thomas the Tank Engine bedspread that he slept under for much of his little boyhood.

On our recent trip to England, we were passing through the village of Stroud in Gloucester on one of our day trips with The English Bus. As we passed a row of modest houses, our guide pointed out one of the houses and said, "That's where The Rev. Wilbert Awdry lived. Some of you may have heard of him."

Oh yes. If only he knew.