Some might recall the first book their parents read to them, even though that usually happens before we start reading on our own. And again, my memory is blurred.
And then there is the first book that deeply impressed us, and it doesn't matter whether it's been read to us by our granny or whether we delved in it all by ourselves. It's a book we loved and read over and over again until it almost (or in some cases most definitely) started falling apart. A book that we still treasured in the years that followed, and that, maybe one day, we will give to our own children to share the magic it held for us with them. It's that one book that left its mark!
I don't recall at what age I received it, not even who gave it to me, but I sure remember how I loved to read it. Again, again and again! I wouldn't grow tired of it and while I generally loved to read, I usually never read a book more than once, unless it really enchanted me. Looking back now I realize how the world, that this book presented to me, influenced my life. I'm not talking about the act of reading itself, which I still love more than ever, I'm referring to the world the book contained and which spilled its magic right into my heart.
"My Bedtime Book of Magic Carpet Stories" by Patricia Taylor (1971)
So, there we have a book about a brother and sister traveling around the world on a flying carpet, visiting every country on their journey. And here we have a girl that loves to travel and ended up studying Ethnology later in her life. That girl would be me!