Give the gift of imagination - Even in an Xbox world, nothing beats reading to a child

There are two kinds of ``Charlotte's Web'' fans in this world: Team Charlotte and Team Wilbur.

I suspect that Team Charlotte includes the world's genuinely nice people: those who don't think of themselves first and do kind things when no one's watching to record the moment.

Team Charlotte is, of course, the minority team.

We on Team Wilbur are the stragglers, the dim bulbs, those who have to occasionally be reminded that life has a purpose beyond simply getting through it. Team Wilbur members bear an unfortunate resemblance to the clueless piglet who is redeemed because he has kind friends in the right places. Team Wilburites are testaments to the power of mercy.

Said author E.B. White, an essayist who was farming when he invented the ``Charlotte's Web'' characters: "One day when I was on my way to feed the pig, I began to feel sorry for the pig because, like most pigs, he was doomed. This made me sad. So I started thinking of ways to save a pig's life."

White who did not leave a recorded preference for Team Charlotte or Team Wilbur but was nonetheless a sensible guy probably would not want you to blow the holiday book budget on lavishly priced tie-ins to the forthcoming ``Charlotte's Web'' movie (with Julia Roberts as the voice of spider Charlotte and Dakota Fanning as Fern).

So, while Charlotte and Wilbur are once again hot commodities this holiday season, let's make this brief: Taking your kids to see ``Charlotte's Web'' on the screen does not substitute for reading them E.B. White's book. And about that rash of premium-priced ``Charlotte's Web'' storybooks with crayons, an ink-stamping kit and a "movie storybook"?

You know that somewhere in that pit you call home, you own a perfectly decent $3.95 school book-fair version of E.B. White's classic about the wise spider with the limited life span and the runt piglet. My suggestion is, even if its pages are yellowing, you dig it out and honor the book's spirit by reading it aloud to your favorite kid. If you lack a child of the appropriate age, your neighborhood elementary school probably would be delighted for you to come in and pore through Charlotte's lessons with a struggling reader.

Doing the right thing for those you love is, after all, Charlotte's message to children, and something you can neither buy nor convey via slickly marketed tie-ins. (But if you want the new hardcover with the photograph of Dakota Fanning, it's $16.99 and available from HarperEntertainment. You still get the Garth Williams illustrations. When it comes to kid lit, Williams is a god.)

Age range: From the time you can sit them down long enough to read to them until they're old enough to start to wonder whether this is the same E.B. White who co-wrote ``Elements of Style,'' the book about grammar, word usage and writing style that is the bane of their college existence.

No matter what your decision on ``Charlotte's Web,'' there are holiday gift books that do merit parting with a few bucks. They include:

``Red Ranger Came Calling'' by Berkeley Breathed (Little, Brown; $7.99).

When you're done weeping goblet-size tears over Wilbur and Charlotte you know you do take a break with the snarky and extremely funny Christmas book by the author of the Bloom County comic strip. ``Red Ranger'' boasts a bratty and refreshingly ugly kid, a sarcastic Santa and a stunning but real visual punch line. Unlike many children's book authors but like the works of Lemony Snicket Breathed writes for tapped-out adults as much as kids.

When you're done with the book, check out the online photos of the "bicycle tree" of Vashon Island, Wash. Suggesting that you do in no way implies that we know whether said tree is an authentic phenomenon or a hoax worthy of snopes.com.

Age range: Three years and older, although I suspect this is a book that parents might enjoy slightly more than their offspring. What Christmassed-out adult would not appreciate the Santa house sign that says "Visitors Not Received with Zesty Jolliness at the moment" and a child who perceptively notes that "I paused to organize my fit"?

``How the Grinch Stole Christmas'' by Dr. Seuss (Random House Books for Young Readers, $7.99).

If you don't already own multiple copies, where on earth have you been spending your money? Were you never a child? Did your heart never grow three sizes one day?

And if you must park a child in front of a Christmas TV special, the Boris Karloff version of Grinch is the gold standard. (Well, there's also the Garfield Christmas special with the voice of Pat Carroll as Jon's grandma, but I think that one's more a personal preference than a classic.)

Age range: Any.

``Mommy'' by Maurice Sendak (Michael de Capua Books/Scholastic, $24.95).

Sendak with pop-ups in a "haunted" house: What more do you need to know? Yes, the kid looks like Max from ``Where the Wild Things Are.'' If you're a parent, you've already concocted your own set of sound effects for that book, which you secretly mutter to yourself because Sendak has a kind of adult-hypnotic quality. (All together now: " ... and gnashed their terrible teeth! and showed their terrible claws!")

The great thing about Sendak is that nothing's too sweet and drippy. In something you might have to read aloud a couple of hundred times, that's no small thing.

Age range: Three and older for ``Mommy,'' any age for ``Where the Wild Things Are.''

``Christmas Remembered'' by Tomie dePaola (G.P. Putnam's Sons, $26).

You'll have to take my word that it gets better after the first sentence of the preface: "It's no secret that Christmas is my favorite time of the year." Oh, Tomie, you rake!

DePaola, the author of the Strega Nona series about a loveable witch with a perpetually overflowing pasta pot is an admirable artist and a ridiculously good-humored writer.

A wonderful bit, from dePaola's recollection of the first Christmas after World War II ended: "We'll have a tree just like we used to have before Hitler and Tojo!" he declared.

There's a sentence you won't find anywhere else.

Age range: Six and older.

``Little House in the Big Woods'' by Laura Ingalls (HarperFestival. $6.99.). You want the version illustrated by the aforementioned Garth Williams, because yes, these things do matter.

Almost everybody knows there's been controversy over whether Wilder's books are history-based or the yammerings of a particularly wicked frontier imagination abetted by the talented editing of her daughter Rose.

Still, what can it hurt to show your kids that before Bratz, people once made toys out of pumpkins? That Christmas was once a wish for family togetherness and a few pieces of candy rather than an SUV crammed with electronics and a death march to entertain the kidlets over school vacation?

Wilder's work hasn't been out of publication in the 70 years that it has been available. Take that, literary puritans.

"I understand that in my own life, I represented a whole period of American history," Wilder said.

That's why Wilder is classic, even if ``Little House: The Musical'' isn't showing at your neighborhood multiplex: It portrays Christmas as a feeling, not a price tag. As tired as that sounds in an Xbox world, it's still refreshing to see on the printed page.