I don’t recall how old I was when I first read Little Women – somewhere in my adolescence. But I do remember falling in love with those March sisters; Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. As I got to know the characters, I soon felt like part of the family and imagined living in that drafty old house with them. I acted in their Pickwick productions and ice skated on their pond. I cared for sick neighbors with Beth, painted with Amy, tended children with Meg, and wrote stories with Jo. I read this book over and over and each time I read the last page and closed the book, I felt like I lost my best friends.