“A Tree Grows in Brooklyn” by Betty Smith. Not only is it my most favorite book of all time, EVER, I always have to fight back sobs when Francie’s teacher tells her to burn the stories about her dead father and, while doing it, say “I am burning ugliness, I am burning ugliness.”
definitely at the top of my list–the book that made me wish to be a writer
also of course when Beth dies in Little Women
Old Yeller (sappy as a book as well as a movie)
The First Four Years, the shorter book that tells of Laura and Almanzo Wilder’s early married life, and the heartbreak and tragedy of the real pioneers, when her baby dies, then they lose their farm.
In the same vein, Mrs. Mike, another all-time favorite, about a young girl who marries a Mountie in the Canadian Northwest, a real sob story. I recently found the sequel, good but nothing like the first book.
I read a book of my dad’s about the Coast Watchers in ww2 (don’t know the title, but probably something like that) which was factual, but a bare bones account of what they sacrificed and suffered, almost all were killed eventually, but how a relatively few brave people–and the natives who helped them and were also killed for it–saved the Allies and helped turn the tide in the Pacific war. My dad cried when we watched a TV show about them–the only time I saw him cry–so I got interested in the topic. Turns out the top-secret work he did during the war was helping to compile info on remote Pacific islands specifically to help the coast watcher service. Did not know that until after he died.