A good book is truly a friend. When the Allegheny Regional Library Association announced that "The Giver" would be this month's selection for the "One Book, One Community" program, it brought back fond memories.

I had met author Lois Lowry when she spoke at the Children's Museum of Pittsburgh about 15 years ago. I covered the event for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

Lucky me, I had the pure joy of sitting next to Mrs. Lowry at a luncheon -- at which she cringed that "The Giver" had become required reading for many a dreaded fifth-grade book report. We agreed that kids can't be force fed; they just need to "read a lot and write a lot," as she put it.

•

The next year, when my own fifth-grade daughter had to select a book for a report, I suggested "The Giver." I shared my love for the author who struggled, like I did, with writing while trying to get the laundry done.

Jenny, a reluctant reader, liked my idea. The book had to have at least 100 pages, and "The Giver" had 102. She liked the book, too, and she got an "A" on her report.

The following year, Jenny's sixth-grade book report came due shortly after the birth of our younger daughter. "Guess what book I'm reading?" she asked, with a voice that told me she wasn't changing her mind, no matter what I said.

We talked about the world of "The Giver," in which a society tries to avoid the pain of human experience by seeking comfort in "sameness." Was she doing the same by reading a book that she had already read?

No, as it turned out. In her sixth-grade report, Jenny went beyond listing what happened and her "A" came with a comment from her teacher about her "great insight."

With seventh grade came yet another book report on "The Giver." Was this tween-age rebellion?

I would pick a different battle. Besides, I could throw no literary stones. I loved to read and reread books such as "Pat the Bunny" to Beth, Jenny's little sister.

By eighth grade, annoyed with an education system that required students to read only one novel per year, and feeling a bit rebellious, too, I endorsed "The Giver" yet again.

•

Throughout high school, Jenny's book report on "The Giver" continued to be an annual event. My daughter would say, "I have a book report to write. Can you guess the name of the book?" I would place my hand on my brow, pretending I was a mystic, and say, "Oh, let me see ... The Give ... Give ... " Then we'd dissolve into laughter.

To her credit (and yes, Mom's insistence) Jenny always re-read the book and each book report was different. As she matured, we talked about themes she hadn't noticed when she was younger. But I wondered if I was a terrible parent for allowing this.

For her senior year, Jenny decided to choose a different book, and asked for suggestions. I recommended one I had just read. At 105 pages, the length was appealing, although I warned her that the book was dark.

"Tell me it's going to get happier," Jenny said one day before she reached the midpoint.

I couldn't.

"Oh, then I can't finish reading this," she said. "I'll just have to go back to 'The Giver.' "

She left the final version of her final high-school book report on my computer screen. It included the part about trying a book suggested by her mother, briefly describing a plot so drenched in despair that she couldn't finish it, and her then deciding to go to the family bookshelves only to rediscover "The Giver." She asserted, with great humor, that while it's important to listen to your mother, it's more important to follow your heart and make your own decisions.

Of course, that led to the underlying theme of the beloved book that she had now read and analyzed every year since fifth grade. I wondered what passions Jenny would pursue as she prepared for college.

•

The following fall, I got a phone call from my freshman daughter. She asked for my help in choosing 12 children's picture books to read for a children's literature class. (Yes, she trusted me, again!)

And oh, yes, there was one book that everybody had to read. "Can you guess?" she asked. "You're kidding ..." I said.

Jenny pursued a double major in elementary and special education. One day, during a summer-school session before her senior year, she was engrossed in a book. When I entered the room, she put it down and covered it with her hands.

"Guess what I'm reading?" she asked.

"Haven't a clue," I said.

Her brows arched around hurt puppy eyes, and she looked genuinely grieved.

"You're kidding!" I exclaimed.

Our laughter turned into tears. We couldn't have asked for a book to give us more joy than "The Giver."

•

Jenny graduated this past December and began a full-time permanent substitute position this past month. Her dad and I sat in the kitchen as she prepared to leave for her first day of teaching her own class.

"Did you hear that 'The Giver' is going to be the selection for One Book/One Community?" he asked.

"You're kidding," my daughter and I both exclaimed.

But there was no time to laugh, as Jenny headed out the door to teach children with severe disabilities who may never be able to read.

"The Giver" once again had given me perspective on what's important in life. Instilling in our children an appreciation for good literature is a great gift. But the greatest gifts to our children are everyday moments saturated with love.

I'm looking forward to connecting again this month with my old friend, for that is what a treasured book becomes.

Beth, our youngest child, is now in fifth grade. Her sister and I have a friend we'd like her to meet.