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When I tell friends I've started collecting kids' books, they ask excitedly if I'm pregnant, so I'll preface this post with the words: no I'm not expecting. I just love children's books.
My latest purchase is The Snow Leopard, a superbly illustrated book on a topic that is dear to my heart, the bond between humans (in this case, a little girl) and animals. Snow leopards are extraordinary and elusive big cats that haunt the Himalayas. A few years ago, my mum took my sister and me on an unforgettable road trip through Ladakh (Indian Himalayas), where we reached 19,000ft (5800 m), visited mysterious Buddhist monasteries and marveled at the landscapes; Buddhist pilgrims leave countless prayer flags along the road, and if I too had tied one onto a tree, I would have wished for a glimpse at the beautiful feline creature.
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Among the books I have collected so far are some of my childhood favorites, such as Le journal de Delphine (the story of a little ballerina!), novels by Judy Blume and Roald Dahl, and other gems like Charlotte's Web, poems for kids by one of my favorite poets, Joseph Brodsky, a Maurice Sendak, Alice in Wonderland...
I must get a copy of Enid Blyton's Noddy, the book that got me addicted to reading; so absorbed was I in my books as a child that one of my teachers told my mum she should take them away from me! Fortunately, she disregarded this advice.
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