Usually, it’s always “The Haunted House” and its commonness almost always kills the interest. Quite interesting, and the word “secret” added to the air of curiosity. I pulled out a book in scrutiny: a black cat eyeing two scared girls in uniforms behind them an incongruous wooden fence and a leafless tree farther behind the fence was a rundown house that’s apparently haunted. Instead, I started to look out for books from the shelves where a few students were gathering. In one of those instances, I decided that I’ve outgrown the familiar characters and comfortable hard covers of the Puddle Lane series I usually borrowed. Thanks to The Secret House by Carol Beach York for making the shift experience a gratifying one.Įarly in primary school, we used to have library hour wherein we get to choose up to 4 books for weekend mind consumption.
This book is special in a class of its own in that it marks the shift in my reading trek from the cozy picture books to a more complex and wordy short novel (it has chapters). Almost a score ago when I have first encountered this book and yet its story still holds a special part inside me, prompting a certain crave now to read the book again, even though at my present age, the delight in this experience had probably faded to a great extent.
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