From: Becky McDonald <beckymcd>
Date: Tue, 8 Aug 2000 22:19:24 -0500

Not to change the subject from Ellen, but my 25-year-old daughter insists that I write about Ramona right now. I never had the pleasure of reading Beverly Cleary's books as a child; I wouldn't dare confess to this esteemed group which series of books I loved then! However, my daughter Anne devoured every Cleary book, including
_Ellen Tebbits_, but Ramona was her friend. Maybe Ellen, with her sashes and woolen underwear, was more difficult for her to relate to--though I could have! In my fifties childhood, sashes were important. Sashes were almost regal adornments when they were properly starched and tied, a burden when they were dipped accidentally in the toilet, but most of all, they were targets for pestering boys. I never wore woolen underwear since I lived in a warm climate, but I could relate to being overdressed. My mother and grandmother dressed me as though I lived in the Alps. I spent every winter gasping for a breath of cool air and desperately wishing I hadn't been forced to wear a pair of hot leggings under every dress (which was also a major embarrassment). But I must talk about Ramona. Ramona was a member of our family, a best friend to our only child. Ramona was not perfect, which endeared her to our Anne. Anne struggled with school, though she never got into trouble in class. Ramona did stupid things like cut her own hair to be bald like her uncle. Anne just felt stupid because school was so hard, but perhaps reading about Ramona kept her from making some of Ramona's mistakes. Ramona books were her refuge from everyday stress as well as the truly tough times when a grandparent died. Even as an adult, Ramona is conveniently tucked into drawers beside her bed in the room Anne no longer lives in, but will remain hers as surely as Ramona will always be her friend. Becky McDonald beckymcd at camalott.com
Received on Tue 08 Aug 2000 10:19:24 PM CDT