I haven’t opened Shel Silverstein’s “The Giving Tree” in years, and I don’t intend to any time soon.

I began to think about the book during one of those nostalgic journeys through childhood that accompanies a dumb smile and a faraway stare. I began to question my memory of some of the books that exist in the playful room of my early years.

When I see the distinctly juice-box green cover of “The Giving Tree,” melancholy sets in and I begin to curse that little boy who grew too old to play. And not to mention turned a beautifully mature tree into a stump.

But as a little kid, I really didn’t see the problem with taking from a tree named the Giving Tree. I mean, the kid just wanted to play King of the Forest and sell some apples — pretty harmless. Only until the boy, who at this point had grown into a man, wanted to construct a home and build a boat, did I question those depressing final pages.

Another prominent children’s book left me similarly bewildered. The aquatic fable “The Rainbow Fish” is a visually striking book that, like “The Giving Tree,” left me unsure as to exactly what I was supposed to absorb from reading it.

If sharing had been the lesson that day, I didn’t learn it. At that time, those memorizing sparkle scales were first and foremost the reason for reading the book. But subsequent readings had me rooting for the Rainbow Fish at the beginning of the book rather than the de-sparkled sellout at the end.

It reminds me of a lyric from John Lennon’s “Borrowed Time,” a song about his painful childhood and the man he was becoming at the time. He sings, “Now I am older/the more that I see the less that I know for sure.” It is this lyric that seems to affirm itself as I explore the world and meet new people.

I don’t think it’s detrimental, however. The wonder and occasional fear we encountered as children were safe zones and crushingly confusing worlds that are still explored even as adults.

Recognizing this is important to make lasting and valuable media for children.

Some movies that successfully mix rose-tinted wonder with the fear and confusion of childhood are “Toy Story 3,” “Where the Wild Things Are” and “Fantastic Mr. Fox.” As endearing as they might be, each movie illuminates dark themes to children that are haunting and confusing.

I’m all for keeping childhood a wonderfully imaginative and fantastical time. However, fear will always be a part of growing up. The move toward darker, more sinister themes in children’s media is beneficial.

It means possible confusion for them during early years of the book or movie, but also incites returning to the source for questioning later.

I believe this is at the heart of effective and worthwhile children’s entertainment: making lessons that ripen and intentionally confuse at first, but with time become defined. This mode of slow and deliberate learning is, after all, how we grow into complete adults — whatever that means.