Where the Sidewalk EndsShel Silverstein
My mother read many books to my sister and I when we were children. Before bed, we would curl up on her lap and listen to stories unfold in her kind, even voice. Nothing quite captured my imagination as well as Where the Sidewalk Ends. Through it I flew in a shoe with Ickle Me, Pickle Me, and Tickle Me too. I gasped when tiny Melinda Mae ate a whale, and wondered why Sarah Cynthia Silvia Stout did not take the garbage out. Above all, through Silverstein's inspired pen, I learned that anything could happen and anything could be.