A couple of weeks ago, I introduced eight year old E. (one of the kids I am tutoring) to Roald Dahl via Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It was the first time he was reading it, while I’ve read the book more times than I can count (and once more while he was reading it!), and I must say I don’t think I’ll ever outgrow this book — it’s still as magical as the first time I read it.
I was in third grade, and by then legally allowed into the library sections for big kids (although I had managed to smuggle myself in many times in previous years), and I was making my way through the shelves alphabetically. The battered hardcover copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory instantly caught my attention because we had a betamax tape of the 70’s Gene Wilder movie, and I grew up looking for a golden ticket in practically every chocolate bar I tore open.
