A Big Sleepover Makes a Bigger Mess

I’ve been a VeggieTales fan for nearly two decades now, and while I am most familiar with their videos, I have also enjoyed their books when I run across them. One such book is The Big Sleepover, a book in the Mess Detectives series that my friend Libbie gave me as a gift a while back. Written by Doug Peterson and illustrated by Ron Eddy and Robert Vann, it features narrator Larry the Cucumber and his partner in crime-squashing, Bob the Tomato, as Dragnet-style detectives.

The illustrations in this book veer closer to the style of the main video series than the flatter design found in many of the books. These pictures have vibrant color and depth of shading, and all of the characters look about the way I would expect. My only issue with the pictures is that Larry makes a couple of references to his pet badger’s overly long claws, but the badger in the pictures doesn’t appear to have claws at all. Then again, aside from his changing expressions, he appears to be a stuffed animal, so maybe kids are meant to see the badger as Larry’s favorite toy and attribute any of his actions that Larry describes as mere products of an overactive imagination.

The story is cute, if a bit silly. Madame Blueberry has been babysitting four youngsters who made a horrific mess during their sleepover at her house. One wonders why she didn’t call their parents instead of a detective agency, but then she always has been a bit of a drama queen. Aside from this initial overreaction, she appears surprisingly calm throughout the story. Her concern is not for her broken furniture but rather for the boys’ moral fortitude.

The point of the story is that when you have done something wrong, it’s best to fess up. From there, you can seek forgiveness and look for ways to make up for it. This is a good message, and I like the fact that mercy and forgiveness are so heavily emphasized. None of the adults berates the boys for their mistakes. They simply encourage and reward truthfulness, while suggesting ways to clean up their mess.

The Dragnet spoof aspect is fun, with the punchy wordplay and references to catchphrases from the show, though I wonder if most kids would get that humor. Without the context, I would imagine some of it would fall a bit flat. Of course, that’s always a danger when it comes to parodies. I imagine that the other books have the same sort of devices, so at least there would be consistency within the series.

While I’ve rarely found VeggieTales books to be as effective as the videos, given the lack of silly voices and catchy music and limited opportunity for visual humor, the book works well for the format, and kids who enjoy these characters should have fun seeing Larry and Bob crack a case and spread goodwill.

Not Quite Proof of Heaven, But An Intriguing Account

Back in October, I paid a visit to my grandparents. While I was there, we watched an episode of Katie Couric's talk show in which she invited guests who reported having had near-death or mystical experiences, and my grandpa lent me a couple books collecting stories of people who believed they had gotten a glimpse of a deeper reality. The theme seemed to permeate my visit, so I was intrigued when one of the first things I saw upon my return home was my dad's latest Newsweek, the cover of which pointed to an excerpt of a book written by a neurologist claiming Proof of Heaven.

I read the excerpt and decided to order the book by Dr. Eben Alexander. After all, not only did it feel like kismet after I'd encountered the subject so much at my grandparents', but accounts of that type have always fascinated me. Alexander's is particularly interesting because he approaches it from a scientific perspective. While the book is mostly written in layman's terms, it is informed by his years of study and skepticism. It attempts to reconcile faith and science in a meaningful way, though he uses very little specific religious terminology throughout the book.

I found Alexander's style accessible and enjoyable, albeit a bit hard to follow at times as he tends to follow a very nonlinear format. He spends a lot of time discussing his conflicted feelings about having been adopted and the emotions that swirled up in him when he first made contact with his biological family. He also discusses what was happening in the hospital while he was in a coma brought on by a particularly nasty form of meningitis, and he talks about the impact that his experience while in the coma had upon his life. What he doesn't really discuss in great detail is the experience itself. That part of the account is moving but brief, and the book includes few details that weren't covered in the excerpt.

What Alexander does share is intriguing, particularly as he ties it in with quantum physics and the idea that sheer materialism offers a deeply limited view of the cosmos. His description of love as the very fabric of the universe is moving and comforting, and I was particularly interested in his immersion in an almost tangible harmony and how that enriched his experience when he returned church after a long absence. He notes that he is an Episcopalian but that prior to his experience, the religious conviction he once felt had dimmed considerably. I would have been interested in hearing more about how he viewed his renewed childhood faith in light of what he believed to be a close encounter with the divine.

Despite the audacious title, the evidence Alexander offers is still something that can't be corroborated except to the extent that his medical records clearly indicate that part of his brain shut down during his coma. It's also not among the most detailed NDE accounts I have read. I think the book promises more than it delivers in terms of recounting the actual experience and uses repetition and rumination to mask the fact that the meat of the story is only maybe three or four chapters. Nonetheless, it does offer a specific viewpoint that makes it an unusual offering in this particular niche. While it's more anecdote than evidence, it opens up the conversation in an interesting way and is well worth a look for those who are drawn to these types of accounts.

Open This Little Book and Find a Reading Rainbow

My friend Dan shares my love of great picture books, so when he finds one, he always makes a point of alerting me. This year for Christmas, he gave me Open This Little Book, a simple but clever book written by Jesse Klausmeier and illustrated by Suzy Lee.

The first thing I thought of when I read through this fun book was Cloud Atlas, as it has a similar recursive structure, albeit with much simpler contents. Indeed, there is very little text in the book except at its very heart. Nonetheless, there is enough there to give kids the gist of the idea and hopefully inspire not only further reading but further writing as well.

While Klausmeier is a first-time author, Korean artist Lee has received many accolades for her work, and it is the visual component of this book that is so striking. It begins after the title page, when we see a purple paperback book resting comfortably inside the larger hardcover. This interior book is slightly smaller, leaving a mostly-white border around it where the book returns to full-size at the end. Its cover is less complex but still incorporates most of the same elements as the cover proper.

The title is an instruction. Open the book, and you’ll find another, still smaller, book inside, this one entitled Little Red Book. Inside that is Little Green Book, which contains Little Orange Book, which houses Little Yellow Book, which conceals Little Blue Book and, finally, Little Rainbow Book. Each book introduces another character, and the two illustrations inside it show that character holding the next book in line. For instance, Rabbit, who first appears in the orange book, holds the yellow book in his paw.

The use of color in the book is wonderful. Each book has a solid color outline on the inside to which the next book reaches, so when you get to the middle you have very defined white, purple, red, green, orange, yellow and blue boxes. While the order is not quite that of the rainbow spectrum, the basic colors are there, and it’s very pleasing to the eye.

Additionally, the color subtly enforces the idea that every book we read expands our knowledge. The first illustration inside the purple book is black and white except for the red book. In the next illustration, however, red is used extensively, while the only other color is green, which is only used to show the book Ladybug is reading. This continues, with each book incorporating more colors.

When they double back on themselves, each of them closing his or her book in turn, the illustrations on the right-hand side of the books are drenched with color. Rabbit now has a yellow umbrella; Ladybug is surrounded by leafy greenery. Their worlds are brighter because of what they have gained by reading.

That message is more overtly stated at the very end of the book as well, since it explicitly instructs children to open another book after they have closed the last of the mini-books. The final illustration is a joyous celebration of the wonders of reading, with all of the book’s characters and many others happily sprawled around a beautiful bookcase fashioned out of a pair of entwined trees. That design emphasizes the sense of connection that runs through the book (or, rather, series of books). Stories are something we share with each other.

This book is a delight to peruse, and I can easily picture some children wanting to try creating a book like this themselves. I’m certain my artistic brother would have enjoyed such a task had he encountered such a book as a kid. Children might also have fun identifying all of the animals featured in the final picture and imagining what each of them could be reading.

As someone who grew up with both Star Trek: The Next Generation and Reading Rainbow, I was intrigued by Klausmeier’s decision to dedicate the book in part to LeVar Burton. She offers no explanation, but I suspect the latter show has something to do with it. After all, she, too, is telling reader to take a look in a book, and in this case, the contents are colorful indeed.

Santa Finds Some Unexpected Helpers in Oh, What a Christmas!

In Jerry Pallotta’s Who Will Guide My Sleigh Tonight? Santa runs through all sorts of trials with different animals before settling on the perfect creatures to pull his sleigh. In the more recent picture book Oh, What a Christmas!, Michael Garland posits a scenario in which Santa already knows which animals work best but must resort to using different species due to an accident.

Garland is a longtime illustrator, and it is his lavish artwork that drives this silly but sweet tale. The story is told with simple narration in a couple of paragraphs per page. Particularly noteworthy phrases like “BIG, FAT, JOLLY RED SKYROCKET” and onomatopoeia like “THUD! STOMP! THWACK!” jump out at the reader in extra-large print and capital letters. Santa speaks from time to time, usually peppering his dialogue with “ho”s, but the reindeer are silent, as are the animals that come into the story soon afterward.

The book consists mostly of full-page illustrations and two-page spreads filled with vibrant colors and intricate shading. The tale begins with Santa and his reindeer embarking on their Christmas Eve ride, only to have a straightforward night thwarted when the harness breaks, causing the deer to be separated from Santa and the sleigh to crash. Santa lands near a barn, and it is there that he finds his replacements: two sheep, two cows, a horse, a pig, a goat and a hound dog. The main fun of the story is seeing these ordinary animals in the extraordinary situation of guiding Santa’s sleigh.

The animals have a fairly realistic look to them while still being slightly cartoonish, particularly in their eyes, which are large and white with small black pupils, each with a pinprick of light in it. Santa, too, has such eyes, along with rosy cheeks and a bulbous nose. His beard and mustache are silky white, and his suit looks quite cozy. Santa is very jolly-looking, while the animals spend much of their time looking gently confused. Some of the facial expressions are quite comical.

As stories go, this one isn’t too complicated, but it is sweet, since it allows a ragtag team of farm animals to do something amazing and to help Santa out of a jam. There’s a general sense of goodwill about the tale and a warm glow in several of the illustrations that would feel at home in a Thomas Kinkade painting. For young children who enjoy animals, this book offers a fun twist on a Christmas tradition.

A Bad Kitty Christmas Is a Good Christmas Book

I imagine that most cat owners have entertained the thought that they have a bad kitty. After all, cats have an independent attitude and a knack for getting into mischief, and the holidays often bring out the worst in them since there are so many opportunities to cause trouble. That is certainly the case in Nick Bruel’s A Bad Kitty Christmas, one of several books featuring a scraggly black car with a tuft of white fur on her chest and a sometimes-surly disposition.

This charming story is told through rhyme. It begins and ends as a parody of A Visit From St. Nicholas, but it’s a much longer narrative than that classic poem, and Santa Claus isn’t involved at all. Instead, this is the story of a mischievous kitty who makes a colossal mess, gets soundly scolded and decides to run away en route to the big family dinner. Along the way, she comes to realize how nice it is to have a home, even if people can be frustrating sometimes.

One very neat thing about this book is that it is an alphabet book, but instead of going through the alphabet once, as most books of that type do, it does so several times, and it is integrated organically into the story. The first time around, we get an alphabetical list of all the damage Kitty has done to the house, with one noun and one passive past tense verb in each short sentence. Each time the sentence’s star letter is used at the beginning of a word, it is in red and extra-large.

The second time, the featured letter is blue, and instead of a sentence per letter, it’s only a word or phrase, so this alphabet only takes up two pages. It lists all of the animals the ravenous Kitty wants to eat, and some of them are quite unusual, so there is an educational element to this one beyond the alphabet as children can learn about such creatures as cormorants, ibises, narwhals and quetzals. The two-page spread also features six amusing illustrations grouping the animals, so kids can have an instant idea of what they look like.

Finally, the third alphabet is a listing of various people appearing in photographs hanging on the Christmas tree of an elderly woman who finds Kitty after she runs away. While the first alphabet is funny and the second is educational, this third is poignant as it shows all of the people important in the woman’s life and helps Kitty to understand how much these bonds matter. There are also interesting little tidbits in there, such as the fact that “vriend” is the Afrikaans word for “friend.”

Another fun element of this book is the fact that shortly after Kitty runs away, the pup who lives with her also hops out of the car in order to conduct a search. After that point, many of the pages have a black-and-white inset showing how he is progressing on his journey as he sniffs her trail out and makes inquiries of any creature he sees. The main illustrations, by contrast, are vibrantly colored and sometimes presented in several panels per page. This is a very busy book, filled with a bustle of activity and sometimes several things happening at once. It’s also ultimately a very sweet book with a heartwarming conclusion that is likely to elicit as many smiles among parents as children.

Little Critter Has Cat Trouble in What a Good Kitty

Over the summer, my brother Nathan was taking a walk in a cemetery when he stumbled upon a tiny kitten sitting on a gravestone. When he turned to head home, the kitten followed him, and he decided to bring the furry fellow home for the night. That night turned into several, and soon Chester – named after the man on whose grave he was situated – became one of the family. He’s an adorable gray tiger who purrs like a motorboat. He’s also a boatload of trouble, not unlike the feline at the heart of the Mercer Mayer I Can Read! book What a Good Kitty.

What a Good Kitty is a recent installment in the extensive Little Critter series. It is a My First reader, the lowest reading level of the five in the I Can Read! line of books for youngsters. Because of this, the book contains very short sentences featuring simple words and lots of repetition. Most pages have only one or two sentences, usually describing Kitty’s actions and the reactions of Mom, Dad and Little Sister, all of whom find this newcomer a bit of a nuisance.

As in most Little Critter books, the young scamp with the spiky hair and rumpled overalls narrates, and his thoughts are very little kiddish, making him easy for preschoolers, especially boys, to identify with. As his kitten gets reprimanded for making messes, the reader feels his frustration and empathy, since he, too, has a tendency to get into trouble just because of his high energy level.

Kitty herself is a soft gray cat with a white belly. She spends part of the book looking a bit exasperated, as though even she doesn’t have the energy to put up with Little Critter all day. At other times, though, she wears a sly smile indicating she can match him for mischief. This book shows some of the shenanigans families with kittens are likely to encounter: torn newspapers, unraveling yarn, traumatized fish and the like. And if the cat goes outside, getting stuck in a tree is always a real possibility.

This is a cute story about the trials and rewards of pet ownership. Those who want to make the book extra-fun should pay close attention to the spider and the mouse that appear throughout, often mimicking the behavior of Little Critter or Kitty. Mayer’s illustrations are so vibrant and full of details that there is enough to merit a second or third reading even though the story itself is very simple. No matter how intently they peruse the pages, for children eager to welcome a kitten into the home, this sweet tale with give them a good idea of what they are in for.

Trixie Seeks to Bring a Family Together in The Mystery of the Castaway Children

A baby turning up in a doghouse is an inherently peculiar situation. When that doghouse happens to belong to the family of teen sleuth Trixie Belden, it’s the beginning of another mystery. Was the baby kidnapped? Abandoned by his parents? Could there be some other explanation? In between taking turns caring for the infant that has charmed them all, spunky Trixie and her fellow Bob-Whites are determined to find some answers in The Mystery of the Castaway Children, the 21st book in the Trixie Belden mystery series.

This book, written by a ghostwriter under the name of Kathryn Kenny, is especially warm-hearted as Trixie and her friends and family rally around this infant, growing more attached all the time but also yearning to reunite this wayward child whom they have dubbed Moses with his parents. It’s a mystery in several steps, and Trixie is very methodical about gathering new clues as parts of it are unveiled. While she throws caution to the wind a couple times, her dedication to the case is admirable, and some of her deductions are quite clever.

As is generally the case, Trixie’s best friend Honey is right by her side to help her, and this time, they have an unusual ally in their efforts. Usually, Sergeant Molinson of the local police department warns Trixie off of her sleuthing, but this time, he actually requests that she and Honey work with him. This adds a neat twist to the story and makes Trixie feel like her dream of being a professional detective is more within reach than ever. It also allows readers to see this frequently antagonistic side character in a more encouraging and kind-hearted light.

All seven of the Bob-Whites – the others being Trixie’s older brothers Mart and Brian, Honey’s adopted brother Jim and their friends Diana and Dan – are involved in this story and eagerly share the responsibilities of caring for a baby. It’s fun to see them all turning to mush over this newcomer, even the normally snarky Mart. Of course, the title indicates more than one castaway, and when Trixie and her friends learn of a second missing child, it adds a whole new dimension to the mystery and allows for her little brother Bobby to have a key role to play in the proceedings.

Woven throughout the story is a lesson on the importance of financial responsibility, as well as several pointers on how to take care of a baby. Mostly, though, this is just a solid story of teamwork and ingenuity as a close-knit group of friends try to figure out how an infant ended up in their care and how to reunite his broken family.

Gruntly Is Too Greedy in All For Me and None For All

Pigs are widely considered to be rather, well, piggy, and that particularly comes across in children’s books. One recent picture book that utilizes this stereotype is All For Me and None For All, written by Helen Lester and illustrated by Lynn Munsinger. This duo has teamed up on many occasions to tell tales of critters behaving badly or having just a little trouble discovering their place in the world. In this case, the main character is a pig named Gruntly who has never learned how to share.

Gruntly’s greediness has given him a bad reputation among his peers, which include a sheep, a chicken, a small dog and two more well-mannered pigs. They know that his motto is the titular phrase; he wants to get as much as he can, and he doesn’t care who he has to deprive in order to satisfy himself. Gruntly certainly comes across as a bully, though it’s hard to say whether he is truly malicious or just completely clueless about how to behave. Either way, his pushy, self-serving demeanor does not make him very popular. Is there any way of reforming this hog?

Lester and Munsinger make a great team, with Lester’s simple but lively text accompanied by Munsinger’s fun pictures. In this book, Woolworth the sheep is the only named animal not to wear clothing of some kind. The pigs are fully garbed in shirts and pants, while the dog wears a shirt and the chicken wears a bandana. While the two other pigs, Hampshire and Berkshire, are difficult to tell apart since they are both gray, Gruntly is easily identifiable as the only pink pig in the bunch, aside from the park ranger who is dressed all in green.

Part of the fun of this story is that it involves a scavenger hunt. Each leg of the hunt features a rhymed clue. Gruntly comes to his own conclusions about the end of each verse in an effort to move things along more quickly, but he guesses the wrong word each time. This leaves kids open to try to guess the correct word themselves before it is revealed. It also furnishes a lesson about the importance of patience and of following directions accurately.

The primary lesson in the book, however, is to share with others and not take things that don’t belong to you. For a hoggy youngster like Gruntly, drilling that message into his head is no easy task, but the method is a good one for impressing upon children the value of courtesy and generosity.

Droofus the Dragon Has a Huge Heart

Dragons are powerful mythological creatures whose role in most tales is to antagonize and terrorize. Sometimes, however, they come across much more sympathetically. Famous fire-breathers of this type include Puff the Magic Dragon, Elliot from Pete’s Dragon and Kenneth Grahame’s Reluctant Dragon. I just ran across another fine addition to this list thanks to prolific author-illustrator and former Disney animator Bill Peet.

In How Droofus the Dragon Lost His Head, Droofus is just a youngster when he falls behind a group of migrating dragons. Unable to find them again, he goes in for a landing and makes a life for himself on the ground. Droofus has an unusually soft heart, and he is more interested in rescuing small creatures than eating them. In fact, he is so tender-hearted that he decides to restrict his feasting to grass. This vegetarian dragon is able to grow to a hearty adulthood, but how will he fare when he is discovered by humans? Will he have the opportunity to demonstrate his goodwill?

Peet has a delightful style of illustrating, and all of his characters brim with personality. Droofus is a vibrant blue and green, while his wings are pink. He seems to shimmer with iridescence. Instead of jagged teeth, he has a jagged mouth, which sometimes looks very happy and sometimes very downcast but never looks ferocious. Most of the other characters are small birds and woodland creatures, but the people who come into the story halfway through are most expressive, particularly the weathered farmer who isn’t sure what to make of this enormous winged reptile.

Peet seems to specialize in animals that are significantly different than others of their kind. In this case, it is Droofus’s eating habits and pleasant manner that distinguish him. However, this is not a story about him gaining acceptance from his fellow dragons. Rather, it’s about him learning to carve out his own path and find a way to prove to the skittish people he encounters that he is not a threat.

This is a fairly long story, with several paragraphs on each page, so it builds slowly, and it works well as a read-aloud. It could even be broken up into halves and read as a two-parter. There is suspense aplenty in this story as the dragon faces an unanticipated injury and a threat from a king who pursues him not out of fear but out of aesthetic appreciation. With such a provocative title to the book, can there be a happy ending for Droofus?

Through it all is the core of kindness in Droofus’s heart and the way that it impacts those with whom he interacts. For those who prefer their dragons friendly, How Droofus the Dragon Lost His Head is a thoroughly satisfying tale.

Cowardly Clyde Needs a Dose of Courage

With the exception of Sir Robin of Monty Python fame, knights always make me think of courage and valor. However, given all the country he must traverse, a knight is only as good as his horse. What happens if his noble steed starts shivering in his horseshoes? That is the premise behind Cowardly Clyde, a book by Bill Peet, former Disney animator and prolific author of picture books.

The title character is a gray and white horse in the wrong line of work for his nervous disposition. He’s got the right build to be a mighty warrior, and he’s good at puffing out his chest and looking impressive, but on the inside, he’s quaking like crazy. Will he be able to summon up the courage he needs when his knight faces his gravest challenge, or will he turn tail and run in his rider’s hour or need?

As a skittish sort myself, I found that this story had a lot of resonance for me. I can easily sympathize with Clyde; I certainly wouldn’t be too enthusiastic about the dire possibilities that come with carrying a knight, particularly meeting an enormous ogre who’s been terrorizing villagers. That beast is quite the alarming brute, reminding me of the monsters in Where the Wild Things Are but less friendly. His presence makes the book exciting as kids can ponder how such a beast will ever be defeated.

I love the name of the knight, Sir Galavant – an appropriate moniker for someone who spends so much time in the saddle meandering the countryside. His excess of bravado is a bit wearying, in a comical sort of way. He’s a bit of a lunkhead, from the start it seems likely that Clyde is going to have an opportunity to bail him out of hot water before the story is over. Will it be physical strength or mental acuity that wins the day? How will he summon his hidden stores of courage?

The illustrations are wonderful and expressive. This isn’t as colorful as some of his books, mostly greens and browns and grays, but it still feels vibrant. The expressions on the faces of Clyde and the ogre are particularly dynamic. Meanwhile, Peet carefully chooses some very colorful adjectives to give us a sense of Sir Galavant’s machismo and Clyde’s jitteriness. It all adds up to a thoroughly charming story for anyone who loves medieval adventures or who could use a little help overcoming his or her fears.

A Porcupine Named Fluffy Has An Identity Crisis

Several years ago, I discovered the picture books of Helen Lester, who often teams up with illustrator Lynn Munsinger for tales about quirky animals, particularly those involving a goofy penguin named Tacky. On a recent trip to the library, I realized that I had missed a few of their gems the first time around, so I decided to fill in some of those gaps. The cover illustration immediately drew me to A Porcupine Named Fluffy.

In truth, that cover is a bit of a spoiler, since it depicts a moment at the end of the book. Then again, it’s a short story with only a few sentences per page, and the bulk of the climactic revelation is verbal rather than visual anyway. Therefore, seeing Fluffy ride atop a rhino’s head as both wear wide smiles doesn’t tell us very much. We just know that these two critters with pointy body parts will eventually enjoy each other’s company. The fun of their meeting is still to be discovered.

Recent celebrity baby naming trends reveal an intense desire to make a child stand out from the rest by virtue of his or her moniker. Some of the choices are downright bizarre. This spirit of individualism seems to have taken hold of the peculiar pair of porcupines who decide to name their child Fluffy. Had they known the identity crisis this would later cause, would they still have done it? Then again, having such a surprising name does have its advantages too, as he will come to learn.

This is a very cute book. The illustrations are cheerful and silly, sure to spark smiles. Poor Fluffy wants so very much to live up to his name, but he is spiky, not fluffy. His valiant attempts show him to be creative and determined, but a leopard can’t change his spots, and a porcupine can’t undo his quills. Fluffy may have a cute and cuddly name, but he will always be a little prickly.

Some of his efforts to change are very funny, and industrious kids could probably figure out more ideas for him to try. A great tie-in activity for this book would be having children illustrate Fluffy’s pursuit of fluffiness, either using an example from the story or furnishing a new one. My favorite from the book involves him applying whipped cream to each of his quills, to the point that he looks like the Abominable Snowman.

The writing is geared toward young readers, so it is fairly simple, with plenty of repetition. However, this does not detract from the humor of the situation, and there is a drily comic tone to much of the story. I especially like the short but effective sentence, “Fluffy definitely wasn’t.” The best bit of verbal humor comes in toward the end of the story, though, and makes all of Fluffy’s pains worth it.

This is a sweet and funny story about being different and about the extent to which we are defined by the names we are given. Fluffy wants to be true to himself; does that mean standing by his name or his species? This question could spark an interesting discussion of name meanings wherein kids can learn the significance of their names and ponder whether they are a good fit. Whether or not it is a catalyst for further conversation, A Porcupine Named Fluffy is a very cute book that should tickle the funny bone of any youngster who loves animals and silly situations.

Buford the Little Bighorn Searches For His Place in the World

One of my very favorite Disney shorts is Lambert the Sheepish Lion, the tale of a timid lion raised as a sheep. It was not until fairly recently that I realized its creator, Bill Peet, has had an extensive career as a children’s book author and illustrator, with many of his stories exploring the idea of animals that feel somehow out of place in their environment. One such creature is the title character in Buford the Little Bighorn, a under-sized sheep with over-sized horns.

Buford’s horns do not grow as his peers’ do. Instead of curling back neatly on his head, they stretch far back, ultimately making it impossible for him to navigate the rocky mountainside where those of his kind reside. Despite their willingness to help him, Buford hates feeling like a burden and yearns to seek his identity elsewhere, finding a place where he can live comfortably in spite of his strange headgear. But is that too much to ask?

A quick glance at Buford might be enough to lead an imaginative child to guess a use he might find for his horns. Meanwhile, those who have already read Peet’s No Such Things are likely to catch on early, since that book features several beasts that resemble Buford, and all of them are engaged in an activity that Buford will ultimately discover. For other kids, however, the clever conclusion will come as a pleasant surprise as Buford finally finds a place where his uniqueness is appreciated.

The writing style is enjoyable, with lavish descriptions ruling the day but dialogue sprinkled in here and there. Some of the wording is particularly fun, like the teetering and tottering that Buford does as he tries to get around, and the gruff speech from the other animals helps us understand Buford’s difficult position, though his fellow rams are supportive. We also get a sense of his independent spirit from the few things he says.

Peet is a marvelous storyteller, and this is a tale that would work especially well out loud. Still, it’s the rich illustrations that are really memorable, from the gorgeous landscapes and colorful sunsets to the plucky little hero with the inconvenient horns. Buford is entirely adorable, and like many of Peet’s main characters, he is likely to resonate with anyone who has ever felt markedly different from his or her peers. A sweet story of self-discovery, Buford the Little Bighorn is a delight.

Find Inspiration in Life's Journeys According to Mister Rogers

Last week, a YouTube video featuring Mr. Rogers swept across Facebook. Cleverly edited and auto-tuned, it was a music video created from clips of Fred Rogers speaking to his young viewers at various points on his show, the central thought being, "You can grow ideas in the garden of your mind." It was whimsical, inspiring and nostalgic, and it reminded me that on a recent trip to the library, I had taken out Life's Journeys According to Mister Rogers, a collection of his wisdom published in 2005.

This follow-up to The World According to Mister Rogers follows the same basic format. The cover is turquoise instead of red, but the inside looks much the same, with a clean format that makes for easy perusal. The text on each page is set inside of a rectangular outline. No page features more than one quote, but several quotes stretch across more than one page. In these instances, the outline is incomplete. If the quote does not end on a given page, the bottom side is missing. If it is continued from a previous page, the top is missing. This basic design helps make the book very easy to read.

The book begins with a ten-page reflection from Fred's wife, Joanne Rogers, who discusses his keen interest in people and his deep belief in Heaven and in a God who truly wants to see everyone there. This sets the tone for this book, which is more overtly spiritual than the first. The subject of God comes up quite often over the roughly 140 pages of quotes spread across three chapters: Who You Are Right Now, Loving and Being Loved and Guided Drift. Of course, so does the notion of being special, as this is how he saw every person he encountered, and it was deeply entwined with his theology.

The idea of people being comfortable with who they are is central to the first chapter, which also includes thoughtful ruminations on the art of listening and taking time to ponder questions deeply and on the human longing for redemption. He occasionally mentions someone he admires to set forth their example. For instance, he shares a story of how master cellist Yo-Yo Ma encouraged one of his students, and he twice quotes Antoine de Saint-Exupery: "What is essential is invisible to the eyes."

The chapter is rich in gentle wisdom, but I think my favorite thought comes toward the beginning, when he says, "I believe that at the center of the universe there dwells a loving spirit who longs for all that's best in all of creation, a spirit who knows the great potential of each planet as well as each person, and little by little will love us into being more than we ever dreamed possible. That loving spirit would rather die than give up on any one of us."

The second chapter is the shortest, though not by much; the book is fairly evenly divided. Here, he turns his attention to interpersonal relationships, talking about how important people are to each other. He speaks of the love of friends, relatives, neighbors - all those special someones who make a person feel truly appreciated. Here, he asserts that genuinely loving someone means loving even the parts of them that aren't so perfect and that the most cherished memories tend to be of the simplest moments.

He urges everyone to look for the good in others and nurture it instead of condemning. The tone is always affirming and uplifting. For instance, my favorite quote from this chapter reads, in part, "I believe that appreciation is a holy thing - that when we look for what's best in a person we happen to be with at the moment, we're doing what God does all the time. So in loving and appreciating our neighbor, we're participating in something sacred."

The third chapter is really about the idea of life being a journey with paths that branch off in unexpected directions. He discusses how much potential each person has and how figuring out one's purpose tends to involve a lot of experimentation and is an ever-changing thing. He also emphasizes the need for comfort from friends and renewal through solitude during trying times, and he urges risk-taking and being willing to face failure.

The final quote in the book sums up the philosophy that guides the pages preceding it. This is the patient host so many children grew up with, and anyone who applies these lessons will be the better for it. "My hope for you at the beginning of this new moment in your life is that you will take good care of that part of you where your best dreams come from, that invisible part of you that allows you to look on yourself and your neighbor with delight. Do your best to appreciate the gifts that you really are and always will be - to look for every opportunity that allows you to clap and cheer, loving your neighbor as yourself."

This book is a quick read, with some quotes only a sentence long and the longest ones only taking up 15 lines per page. It's easy to breeze through but worth taking more slowly, mulling over each morsel and ingesting it carefully. While some of the quotes here come from his show, the primary audience is not children. Rather, it is adults who yearn for a life of greater serenity and gentleness. Spending and afternoon with Fred Rogers may just make that more attainable.

Cassandra & Jane Celebrates a Legendary Sisterhood

In Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen created two of literature’s most endearing and enduring pairs of sisters. This celebration of the sisterly bond makes sense because the most important relationship in the author’s life was with her sister, Cassandra. Jill Pitkeathley’s novel Cassandra & Jane explores that relationship from Cassandra’s perspective, piecing together a portrait of a joint life that feels very authentic.

Jane Austen was a prolific letter-writer, and many of her letters to Cassandra were preserved for the ages and remain available for appreciative readers to peruse. I haven’t read these myself, but many are excerpted here. Meanwhile, Pitkeathley takes a stab at guessing the contents of several of the letters Cassandra famously burned after her sister’s death. Many have wondered what intrigues these missives might contain; Pitkeathley’s solution is that some detail foiled love affairs, while others show Jane’s mean streak rather too acutely.

My impression has always been that Jane was rather like her most celebrated heroine, the tart-tongued Elizabeth Bennet, while Cassandra was like sweet-tempered Jane Bennet, and this book reinforces that notion. According to the novel, Cassandra does have a strong jealous streak when it comes to her sister, often fearing that she will lose her to romance, fame or more intellectual friends, but she never reveals this insecurity to any of her acquaintances or relatives and rarely mentions it even to Jane. For the most part, she comes across as just as even-keeled as Jane Bennet.

The book is largely a biography of the sisters, albeit with fanciful touches. Unlike with The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen, which I read earlier this year, it is easy for me to imagine that the book actually is a memoir rather than a novel. That’s largely because Cassandra’s voice here is so much as I imagined it to be, whereas Jane’s in the other book seemed like far too much of a shrinking violet. In this book, she is much zingier, and the conversations between the sisters feel very realistic.

The book, which is set up to have been written a couple of years before Cassandra’s death – and nearly 30 years after Jane’s – covers every period of Jane’s life, from idyllic childhood to the miserable decade in Bath to the richly creative final years. Letters are used plentifully, and the book includes many references to Austen’s six novels at various stages of completion. The foiled romances actually take up very little room; a flirtation with an Irishman named Tom Lefroy – the main storyline in the movie Becoming Jane – occurs while Cassandra is away, and while she is present for the courtship with clergyman George Atkins, whom they meet in Lyme, that does not last long either.

One element of the book that I found interesting was the sisters’ speculation about those aspects of marriage that had been kept hidden from them, particularly what “conjugal duties” might involve. There seems to be a great deal of nervousness about this issue and very little information. What both the women understand all too well, however, is what a dangerous business childbirth is, as several women in their family die in the process. Cassandra is particularly aware of this since she has been present for the births of several nieces and nephews, though she never witnesses the actual birth.

With these reservations about the physical dangers of motherhood, there is a thread throughout the book of some relief on both the sisters’ parts that they were spared those difficulties, despite their deep disappointments in love, particularly Cassandra, whose longtime fiance died overseas before they could wed. Mostly, there is gratitude that they have each other, and each seems to agree that even a husband would be no match for the closeness that they share. Moreover, the spinster lifestyle seems far more suited to an authoress, and one wonders how many novels Jane would have written or published had she married.

Jane Austen may not have ever seen a romance through to fruition, but her characters certainly did, and they continue to enchant readers long after her death. There’s no way of knowing how a different lot in life would have affected her productivity and fame, but the one thing that’s certain is the fact that Jane and Cassandra shared an extraordinary kinship, and this novel delves into it in a manner that any enthusiast should be able to appreciate.

Cheer Yourself Up With The Book of Awesome

When I was perusing the shelves at the bookstore that has replaced the one where I now work, I happened upon a book whose title jumped out at me: The Book of Awesome. The word “awesome” particularly stood out, since it was printed in a bright array of rainbow colors, and I started flipping through it and found myself agreeing with many of the headings.

I eventually learned that this nearly 400-page-long book was culled from the blog 1000awesomethings.com, one of those blogging success stories that makes so many folks who have written online flush a bit with jealousy. Neil Pasricha started his blog with a readership consisting of just his parents, and his intention was merely to create a little oasis of pick-me-ups for himself after a long day in the office, something to counteract all the bad news assaulting him wherever he looked. He had no idea that it would go viral, but the blog, which started in 2008, gained a readership of millions.

Still, it’s hard to begrudge a guy his popularity when most of his posts are just so smile-inducing. Some of the ones in this book have been shortened, while others only contained a few words to begin with. I like those short and sweet ones, but Pasricha’s writing style is accessible enough that the entries spanning two or three pages make for equally enjoyable reading. While there’s a certain amount of snark that sneaks into several of his observations, the stronger impression is of gratitude and enthusiasm. Reading this book just may make you more aware of life’s little pleasures and more open to seeking them out.

Pasricha’s book is a blend of observational humor and warm positivity. A hint of nostalgia peeks through many of the entries as he explores the joys of childhood or young adulthood, usually while pointing out that such sources of happiness – the sound of scissors cutting construction paper, the smell of fresh crayons, the art of a carefully constructed couch fort – are available to people of any age. Reflections on the sweetness of intergenerational dancing at wedding receptions and the wistful pleasure of remembering departed friends tug gently at the heartstrings, while some, like the entry on the joy of handwritten mail, might serve as a catalyst for improving someone else’s day.

A lot of the entries are more on the silly side, but I still found myself nodding my head. Yes, I always get a charge out of popping bubble wrap. Yes, it’s a rush to shout out the answer to the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune well before the contestants figure it out. I love stepping into the neat boot holes that traverse an otherwise pristine snowy landscape and figuring out what movie I remember a particular actor from (a task, I might add, made immeasurably easier through the wonders of IMDb).

Naturally, there are also a few entries I disagree with. For instance, the smell of both frying onions and ground coffee makes me gag, and I derive no pleasure from observing public flatulence. Still, I can relate to the vast majority of the entries here, and reading them makes me want to compile my own list of things that are awesome. While it took a while to get used to, I also like the way he bolds key words to draw the eye more readily to them. I imagine this has something to do with catering to online readers who tend to skim, but it works well on the page too.

The name and tone of the book, along with many of the references he drops, suggest that Pasricha is around my age, someone who soaked up hours of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as a kid and never quite abandoned the 80s lingo. If LOST’s mellow cheermeister Hurley were to start up a blog, I imagine it might look a lot like what Pasricha has done. It’s just a feel-good collection designed to get you to stop and enjoy all the tiny moments of happiness that occur when you least suspect them. It’s certainly good for a smile.

I’m not sure my worldview entirely lines up with Pasricha’s. Some of his humor is a tad crass, and he seems to approach everything from a purely secular viewpoint, though the book does not so much reject religion as avoid the subject altogether. It also largely side-steps schmaltz, but it still is frequently heartwarming. In any case, I think there’s ultimately little in this book that would offend most people, and I imagine that many have the same experience I did of grinning in recognition at some of the joys that Pasricha highlights. It’s a volume that encourages people to think of all the times they’ve encountered such occurrences and to be more prepared to savor each one when it happens next. If you’re in the midst of a down day, that really can be awesome.

Janet Aylmer Attempts to Tell Darcy's Story

I’ve been on a Jane Austen kick lately thanks to a friend who lent me several Austen tie-in novels. Unsurprisingly, several of them take heavy inspiration from Pride and Prejudice, and that is certainly the case with Darcy’s Story, which follows the plot of that book but focuses on Darcy’s perspective with over-the-shoulder narration that follows his thoughts instead of Elizabeth’s.

This novel by Janet Aylmer is considerably shorter than Pride and Prejudice and was originally written upon request from her daughter. Its purpose is to really get into Darcy’s head and show events from his point of view. However, the manner of writing conveys that Aylmer did not want to stray too far from the established narrative. In fact, quite a bit of dialogue is lifted from the original novel verbatim, and some quotes turn up multiple times throughout the novel as Darcy mulls them over or agonizes about them.

While this tactic does allow for some interesting opportunities to look at established dialogue in a slightly different light, it mostly feels like a retread, especially when the quotes resurface later on. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of wiggle room for Darcy and Elizabeth’s scenes together, so the novel is usually at its most interesting when Elizabeth is absent, since we are covering new territory. However, the scene in which Darcy first proposes to Elizabeth is well-drawn and manages to aptly demonstrate how unsettling an experience it is for him. Other established scenes emphasize Darcy’s social discomfort, making shyness as much to blame for his behavior as overattention to social station.

My favorite aspect of the book is the relationship between Darcy and his younger sister Georgiana, who comes across as just as sweet and judicious as Elizabeth’s sister Jane. In fact, she serves a similar role in helping him consider a new perspective. I also enjoyed Darcy’s reflections on Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle, the Gardiners, and how their genteel manners and kindness help him overcome his prejudices against those with a lower social status.

At about 270 pages, Darcy’s Story isn’t terribly long, especially if you skim through all of the portions that are quoted. However, that doesn’t leave too much wholly original material. Everyone who’s loved Pride and Prejudice has probably done a bit of speculating on Darcy’s doings during his absence from the story; I doubt this is the best of all possible versions. Additionally, while there would still be an element of surprise to those who read this first, I wouldn’t recommend anyone depriving themselves of letting their first encounter with Pride and Prejudice be the original novel. Still, if you don’t mind all the repetition, which is a liability of tales of this type anyway, Darcy’s Story, and particularly its midsection, is an enjoyable enough read for Austen fans.

Rediscover Classic Fairy Tales With This Classy Collection

“Happily ever after” and “once upon a time” are two of the most iconic phrases in storytelling history thanks in large part to the Brothers Grimm, who so diligently collected and adapted many of the folktales that endure as childhood favorites to this day. Along with many other fans, I am hoping that it will take a long time for Once Upon a Time, the ABC Sunday night drama helmed by LOST scribes Adam Horowitz and Eddie Kitsis, to reach its “happily ever after.” Although I want to see these characters find their happiness, which in most cases seems to include making a seemingly impossible romantic connection, I am in no rush to see this modern take on these ancient stories come to an end.

On my birthday, an episode of Once Upon a Time featuring the beloved story of Beauty and the Beast aired, and I received this collection of fairy tales illustrated by Kevin Tong and published in conjunction with the series. Part of the book’s appeal for fans of the show is its foreword by Horowitz and Kitsis, who share their thoughts on why fairy tales have so thoroughly permeated the public consciousness, what they are trying to accomplish with the show and how LOST helped prepare them for it. I’d read snatches of these ideas before in interviews, but it’s nice to have them all here in a cohesive three-page essay that only increases my already strong faith that these two – whose extensive contribution to LOST includes writing my favorite episode, Dr. Linus – know what they are doing.

Parents considering purchasing this for their kids should be aware that the stories within this collection are direct translations of the original Grimm tales, and they are… well… grim. That isn’t to say that the “good guys” don’t win out – usually – but many of them must endure violent trials in the meantime, to say nothing of the grotesque ends many of the villains meet. Young readers, especially the very sensitive, might be troubled by such story elements as eyes being gouged out by birds, youngsters getting gobbled up by wolves and fathers beheading their own children. Of course, generations of readers grew up with these stories before more sanitized versions became more prevalent.

Brief but memorable, with the longest 15 pages long but most much shorter, these stories mostly felt very familiar to me, though the ones Disney introduced to me had distinct differences from their animated adaptations. For instance, this Cinderella’s father is still alive but does nothing to spare his daughter from her stepfamily’s wickedness, and in the process of trying on the royal shoes, her stepsisters cut off parts of their own feet to make them fit – and the prince can’t even tell that neither is the one he danced with at the ball. In Snow White, the evil queen tricks Snow White several times, and ultimately she is revived not by the prince’s kiss but by being transported by coffin to his palace and coming to when it hits a bump in the road and a bit of poisoned apple dislodges from her throat.

The prince in The Sleeping Beauty does kiss the enchanted princess, but as he was born long after she fell asleep, he has no previous connection with her, nor does he need to fight the wicked enchantress or enlist the aid of the helpful fairies as none of them has a role in the story beyond her fateful birthday. Romance does not come into the stories much despite so many tales including a wedding; with few exceptions, if love occurs, it is at first sight, with no time for the couple to get to know each other, and more often marriage is awarded to a stranger as a prize for completing some heroic task. The strangest example of this is in the closing story, The Frog Prince, in which a frog becomes a prince after the cruel, spoiled child whose toy he rescued throws him against the wall – and then he marries her.

Thematic connections can be found among many of the 30 stories, several of which were unfamiliar to me. Ingenuity, perseverance, kindness to the disenfranchised and loyalty are four virtues that are praised in multiple tales. Humor comes into some of the tales as well, particularly in the stories of Hans in Luck, the world’s most ineffective barterer, and Clever Grethel, whose brilliant manipulation of others’ dialogue reminds me of young Kevin McAllister in Home Alone. Remarkable animals are also common, with my favorite being the wish-granting fish The Fisherman and His Wife, a funny cautionary tale against excessive greed and lack of assertiveness.

Despite the presence of violence in many of the stories, there’s really only one story whose ending I would really classify as unhappy, and it still is happy for one of the characters, just not the one readers might expect. In other cases, the tales proceed with little conflict; the trio of short elf tales toward the end is particularly tranquil.

Adding to my appreciation of this collection are the illustrations by Kevin Tong, which are black and white, with bold silhouettes at the ends of stories and more detailed drawings at the beginning, though only a few tales feature these larger pictures. Even these tend to deal mostly with archetypal figures; for instance, we see Little Red Cap wandering down a path in a woodland landscape inside the shape of a wolf’s head, and the dwarves’ cozy cottage stands inside an outline of Snow White’s silhouette.

You might want to restrict yourself to reading one or two of these stories at a time; it would be easy to stretch the 250-page book out for a month that way, since each is self-contained, and such an approach minimizes the risk of the tales running together in your mind. I only took a week to read it, but I’m sure this is a book whose tales I’ll be returning to, especially as the series progresses. More characters are coming on board all the time, and it’s interesting to compare how those who originated with these tales differ from their prime time counterparts. Of course, this book is limited to stories collected by the German Grimm Brothers, so characters from such tales as the French Beauty and the Beast and the Italian Pinocchio are missing, but many of the show’s denizens can be found within these pages.

All of these stories have a timeless quality about them, and I suspect they will still be enjoyed for many generations. While most of the characters are not terribly complex, they make excellent springboards for creative embroidery by writers like Horowitz and Kitsis. Reading them can easily encourage further creativity, whether it’s by way of crafting new fairy tales, writing about these characters’ other adventures or furnishing illustrations. This book would make a great addition to a classroom shelf, especially for slightly older students who might find the format more appealingly grown-up than the more common picture book-style editions. Kids and adults alike can appreciate these tales, just as television viewers across a spectrum of ages can enjoy the series as a family. I’m so glad that these stories remain such a powerful part of the cultural landscape.

The World According to Mister Rogers Is a Nice World Indeed

Last weekend, I had a wonderful visit with my grandparents, and it occurred to me that my grandpa shares many of the traits that made Fred Rogers such a beloved figure: empathy, gentleness, compassion, a childlike spirit, the role of minister. I got the itch to reread I’m Proud of You, a book chronicling the friendship one man shared with Fred Rogers, mostly through correspondence and phone calls, so I searched my shelves, but instead, I found The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember, which collects more than 150 quotes from the children’s television sage grouped into four chapters.

The Courage to Be Yourself includes quotes about personal authenticity in the face of challenges. Several quotes recall Rogers’ childhood and the positive example that others – particularly his grandfather, Fred McFeely – set for him, while others deal with the constant process of discovering oneself. His tone is both encouraging and humble. For instance, I love, “Little by little we human beings are confronted with situations that give us more and more clues that we aren’t perfect.”

In Understanding Love, we find quotes relating to the importance and mystery of love. He talks about how hard it is to love others sometimes but how worthwhile that struggle is. Several of the quotes in this section are spread across two pages, including the touching song It’s You I Like, which reminds us to seek out and recognize the uniqueness of each person we encounter. The second chapter flows naturally from the first, as evidenced in its closing thought: “When we love a person, we accept him or her exactly as is: the lovely with the unlovely, the strong along with the fearful, the true mixed in with the facade, and of course, the only way we can do it is by accepting ourselves that way.”

In The Challenges of Inner Discipline, he addresses the value of channeling emotions in ways that are productive and methods of turning wishes into reality. It is in this chapter that he shares the story of his early encounter with a famous songwriter who praised his songs but told him to come back when he had a barrelful. This important tidbit serves as impetus to always keep working at your goals no matter how happy you are with what you’ve accomplished.

Finally, We Are All Neighbors focuses on the connections among people and how much better the world would be if everyone took the time to see the value in those they meet. This is the chapter that includes the lyrics to Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, arguably the most famous of his songs, and it also includes discussion of some of his personal heroes, both famous and not, and the inspiring observation that “the ultimate happiness is being able sometimes, somehow to help our neighbor become a hero too.”

You can read through the book in a couple of hours, though it’s worth taking a while to digest each quote. I could see this being a great text for use with a response journal. Many of the quotes say similar things, but they are distinct enough that each makes an impact. Some quotes are only a sentence long, while others span several paragraphs. This is a nice book to have handy on a coffee table or in some other place where people might pick it up and leaf through it. The longest continuous stretch of writing is the nine-page-long foreword penned by Fred’s widow Joanne, who details their more than 50 years together from their college days, and this provides an intimate, insightful peek at the man whose words fill the rest of the book.

While people of any age could take something valuable from this collection, the quotes and anecdotes are not geared specifically toward children. Rather, I would say that the book’s primary audience is made up of those who grew up with Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood and could use an extra dose of the reassurance it provided now that they are adults. Reading this book produces a calming effect similar to watching that gentle, affirming children’s program or to spending time with two terrific grandparents.

On Presidents' Day, Read About Lincoln's Handy Hat

Today is Presidents' Day, a holiday to honor America's presidents, particularly George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, whose birthdays are in February. I tend to think of Lincoln much more on his birthday, February 12, which is also my birthday, but I thought this would be a good day to review a Lincoln book I received for my birthday. While it was written specifically for beginning readers, Lincoln enthusiasts of any age can find enjoyment in Mr. Lincoln's Hat.

This 48-page book written by Martha Brenner and illustrated by Donald Cook focuses mostly on Lincoln's early adulthood. The hat, which is such an iconic element of Lincoln's image, is both a useful and comical prop. Brenner explains in simple, appealing language how useful Lincoln's hat was to him as a means of keeping track of all his papers. The portrait that emerges through the several sentences per page is that of a very smart but rather scatterbrained man who did not take himself too seriously. At the same time, he was deeply committed to certain causes, and his folksy manner was an asset to him as he championed them.

Brenner effectively uses repetition, both for the sake of clarity and humor, to weave her tale of the different ways in which Lincoln's hat came in handy and played some sort of role in famous incidents in his life. She cites several specific events, including a murder trial and another trial that served as an early indication of his loathing for slavery. She also includes several funny stories, such the time that some mischievous boys strung a rope up to knock his hat off his head and another time when a judge fined him for whispering a joke during a trial then rescinded the fine after finding the joke hilarious himself.

The illustrations have a soft quality to them and are rich in detail. Many of them, such as the cover illustration depicting him running down the street after his hat and scattered letters, have a humorous quality to them. This is a great book to use in order to introduce children to other aspects of Lincoln's life before his presidency, and its whimsical quality adds to the appeal.

I've seen many books about Lincoln for this age group. Several focus on his childhood or upon his presidency. Others follow him throughout his life, showing how his early love of reading or of animals helped shape the decisions he made later. This book has elements of both those approaches, as it zeroes in on a particular time in Lincoln's life but does so through the lens of a specific object of importance to him. This focus works very well, and as a lifelong Lincoln fan and a bit of a scatterbrain, I found myself both entertained and tempted to try his unique organizational system for myself.

The Boy Who Hated Valentine's Day Will Change His Mind

While I enjoy Valentine’s Day every year, it was always most fun for me when I was in elementary school.  Those were the days of decorating cardboard mailboxes, sitting down and carefully choosing – or, if you were really artistic, making – Valentines for each classmate and coming home the next day with a full box of your own.  I still have dozens of old-school Valentines sitting in a plastic tub with all the other cards I’ve received over the years.  The signatures of my long-ago classmates and the heavy dose of 80s pop culture in the small perforated cards that most kids preferred make me smile when nostalgia compels me to peruse them.

Reading The Boy Who Hated Valentine’s Day took me back to those days.  In this picture book written by Sally Wittman and illustrated by Chaya Burstein, Ben is the titular character.  The reason he hates the holiday is twofold.  First, he hates it because a bullying classmate convinces him that it’s for sissies, and he feels embarrassed about loving it.  Second, he hates it because he spends so much time berating Valentine’s Day that none of his classmates give him cards.  Thus, he begins to develop a different kind of dislike for the day.

The following year, Ben recalls his disappointment at the lack of cards around the same time he discovers his burgeoning artistic talent.  When his dad jokingly suggests he take up a career in counterfeiting, Ben comes up with a complex plan to avoid the humiliation of last year.  While it is clever in its way, wouldn’t it make more sense to simply renounce his renouncing of Valentine’s Day?  Surely he realizes that the only reason he didn’t get any cards last year is that everyone thought he didn’t want them.

Then again, when people are dealing with hurt feelings, they don’t always behave in the most logical fashion.  What matters is that Ben approaches his next Valentine’s Day with a spirit of resentfulness, but he channels that bitterness into creativity and then is compelled into a compassionate act that brings him a much happier holiday than he anticipated.  The story becomes a doorway to a wonderful approach to the world: if you feel have been slighted, instead of stewing in your own juices, try to reach out to someone else in a similar position.  Chances are that you will both be happier as a result.

This is a cute story with a good message and three well-defined characters.  The familiar situation of an elementary school card exchange makes it relatable for many kids, while Burstein’s illustrations have an appealingly old-fashioned look to them.  As people get older, many become disenfranchised with Valentine’s Day for a variety of reasons, but for an eight-year-old, the holiday ought to be innocent fun.  Perhaps, as Wittman proposes, it might even be the catalyst for a new friendship, and that truly is something to celebrate.