I feel this way about A Child’s Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas. It is sentimental in the best way – you feel the author’s affection for his past, nostalgia that is colored by hard wisdom. He can’t go back there to the shawled snow, the family filling the parlor, but he remembers, and fondly.
I knew the book before I heard it recited, a small, blue chapbook bought in Cody’s books on Telegraph Avenue. It had a letterpress cover. The words were clear and had music in them. Some years later I heard a record of Thomas reciting the piece. I couldn’t find that recording but this one satisfies. I like to listen to this story every year, and to revisit the illustrated edition by Edward Ardizonne. Happy Christmas!