I love Scrooge, the movie or play of Charles Dickens's book, A Christmas Carol. Every time I've seen it (and I've seen it in many different versions) I cry when Scrooge has his on Christmas morning.
In 1843, Dickens wrote this "book for the ages" to immense popular acceptance. It hans't gone out of print since. And of course it's spawned innumerable stage presentations, about a dozen movies, and even more radio productions.
Only books that touch soothing deeply inside of us have that kind of longevity.