Cindy Rollins's Reviews > Little House in the Big Woods

But Laura lay awake a little while, listening to Pa’s fiddle softly playing and to the lonely sound of the wind in the Big Woods. She looked at Pa sitting on the bench by the hearth, the firelight gleaming on his brown hair and beard and glistening on the honey-brown fiddle. She looked at Ma, gently rocking and knitting.

She thought to herself, “This is now.”

She was glad that the cosy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.”


Simply the best passsage of American prose. Never once read it without tears. This morning my student said, "Miss Cindy, are you crying?" I was supposed to finish the book on Tuesday but it was a rough day for me because of my dad and so I knew better than to read the last chapter on that day.