Irma Simonton Black (1906–1972)

When the little old man's wife goes away overnight, he has to go to the store and purchase food for his next few meals. The store is filled with boxes and cans and cartons. Some have pictures on them but some don't. He doesn't like to ask for help, so he chooses boxes and cans that look like ones he's seen his wife bring home.

Sadly for the little old man who could not read, his milk is buttermilk. His spaghetti box isn't spaghetti, it's waxed paper. His oatmeal isn't oatmeal, it's a large box of salt. Poor hungry little old man! When his wife returns, he asks her to please teach him how to read and she does. At the end of the book they are at the grocery store together and he's ably choosing the food.

Recently, I attended a wonderful ten-cent book sale. I popped this book, along with many others I thought I was unfamiliar with, into my shopping cart. When the cart was full I went to a quiet corner to scan through my books. I flipped this book open to a random page in the middle and it was like being transported through a time vortex! Suddenly, I vividly remembered the little old man and his reading struggles! For a flash in time I was seven years old again, being stunned at how hungry he was, how powerless he felt when what he thought was sugar ended up being soap flakes. This book, probably more than any other, showed me the importance of knowing how to read and the illustrations complement the story perfectly.

I highly recommend the book.… (mer)