One of the finds from a recent trip to my mom's, this isn't so much a review of the book as an explination.
I picked this up last night to re-read since I couldn't recall anything other than a part at the beginning where this magic coin turns into an umbrella, and later a boat. The plot, characters and otherwise important details of the story were gone from my memory, which is really strange for me, especially since the battered cover and dogeared pages indicated that apparently, I love this book.
I know I say in the rating that I like this book, but really, I love it. So why the disparity? Well, it isn't the story I love, or the characters, or the idea, it's what the book means to me.
When I re-found it, the cover fell open and I saw the inscription written for me in 1986 by my second grade teacher, Rita Grinnell. Beyond the story, which I thought good enough to re-read a couple dozen times, the real reason I loved this book was because it was the only personalized Christmas gift I'd ever gotten from a teacher. My previous experiences with public education till that time did not prepare me for the kindness she expressed daily in her classroom. She set the bar for how I measured all other teachers, and I maintain to this day that she's the best one I ever had.