Though Norton Juster's Phantom Tolbooth is my favorite children's book, and P.D. Eastman's Are You My Mother is the first book I can remember reading as a child, Shel Silverstein's Giving Tree holds the most nostalgic value.

This was the first book that I picked out for myself at a bookstore.

I remember bringing it with me to show-and-tell in the first grade.

I vividly recall how furious I was with my younger brother when I found thick, black, Sharpie drawings scribbled on the inside cover.

I only have to spare a moment's thought, or a quick glance at the book and I immediately think of 6-year-old me. My friends, my family, my attitude. But mostly, how I hated reading, but loved this book (Giving Tree and Are You My Mother were the only two books I was willing to read up until the 3rd grade).

To this day, reading it makes me tear up just a little bit. I am always so touched at the Tree's love and willingness to give though she gets nothing in return. Not even a thank you.

Finally, no other book affects me in quite the same way that the story of the the Giving Tree does. Other books may remind me of an event or an idea that I have associated with it. Some teach me a new lesson everytime I open the cover. A few even succeed in taking me to a world I couldn't possibly have imagined on my own. But none of them make me ache for my childhood. None of them make me miss being young.