When was the last time you sat down with a box of crayons and lost yourself inside a coloring book?

When I was a kid, Saturday afternoons often meant a trip into town with Momma to run errands. And, if we were lucky, we’d end up at Sterling Five and Dime. Before Walmart came to town, Sterling was the place for toys and candy. Honestly, it was almost impossible to not go into Sterling! The hot cashews and buttered popcorn lured in everyone milling around the courthouse square.

My sister and I always made a beeline for the coloring books. We’d flip through the new arrivals and admire the beautiful Barbies, too. Barbies were strictly a Santa Claus gift, but coloring books didn’t cost much, and Momma was occasionally willing to buy us one. Looking back, I realize she bought them for herself as much as for us. A new coloring book kept us happily occupied for hours while she cooked supper or did laundry.

Tom & Jerry. Barbie. Peanuts. The Wonderful World of Disney. Scooby Doo.

Television cartoons were reserved for Saturday mornings, but coloring books let us keep the fun going all week long.

And that box of 64 crayons with the sharpener in the back? My sister and I shared one and thought it was just about the most magical thing in the world—second only, perhaps, to a week at the lake.

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