Red Ferns (and eyes)

One of the few distinct memories I have of 3rd Grade is when Wilson Rawls, the author of "Where the Red Fern Grows", came to our school and talked about his book.  That was the first time I read the book, but not the only time.

I always loved it.  Even with the painful ending.  At some point, however, I decided it was just too sad to read anymore and put it away on a shelf, and then later into a box, almost afraid to open it up and be reminded of the loss of those dogs.  A few years ago, I pulled it out and gave it to Collin to read.  It really is such a great story and I think it's one that all young boys (and girls) should read.  I don't think he ever completed it.

Several months ago I decided it would be a great book to read aloud to the boys.  We've been slowly working our way through it.  Recently we got to Chapter XIX -- that's where the rough stuff begins.  On that night of reading, I stopped after the fight with the mountain lion, closed the book and went over to the bed to say a final good night to the boys.

Collin said, "Wow, that was kind of bloody."

Logan, with fear in his eyes said, "I was afraid that one of the dogs was going to die."   

And a tear ran down his cheek.

I broke it to him then that this story was NOT going to end well, but they needed to remember how good those dogs were and that they saved Billy's life. And then I put the book away for the night.

They talked me into finishing it last night.  I warned them that it may be better to hear during daylight hours.  They insisted.

It did not end well.  Collin kept it together.  I didn't.  I was choking out the words, trying to keep my voice steady and read through the tears. Logan was heartbroken.  He cried.  A lot.

We had a long discussion about the story and what the red fern meant and why everything worked out the way it needed to for that family.  I'm not sure Logan bought it.  He was still struggling an hour later, when he should have been asleep.  Poor kid.  

And what kind of great mom am I to be subjecting my sons to that kind of torture just as they are about to drift into dreamland.

Let's see, what shall we read next... "Old Yeller"...?

Okay, maybe not. 

We're all about happy endings.