Winnie the Pooh, Tigger, Piglet and Eeyore Sing "O Christmas Tree!"

One of my favorite post-Christmas guilty pleasures is raiding Hallmark stores for ornaments that are now 50 or, if I’m really lucky, 75 percent off. Usually by the time the price is that low, all of the stuff I’m really interested in is gone. But at 50 percent, I generally still have oodles to choose from. My tendency is to gravitate toward the “magic” Pooh ornaments, the ones that cost quite a pretty penny to begin with. With the hefty discount, prohibitive prices suddenly dissipate, and I manage to convince myself that this keepsake is well worth the slashed amount. Last year, my big after-Christmas purchase was O Christmas Tree!, a deluxe ornament from the Winnie the Pooh collection.

The box reads, “Pooh says, ‘Let’s go caroling!’ / He loves a Christmas song. Tigger bounces by in time / To join the sing-along. / Eeyore’s part is listening / (He gets the notes all wrong), / While merry Piglet sings / And jingles ding-a-ding-a-dong!” It’s a large, cream-colored box with two pieces of plastic inside molded to fit around the figure, which, despite a ring upon the golden plastic star on the tree that is the centerpiece, really doesn’t seem to be designed for use on an actual evergreen.

One reason for this is that the tree is made out of a different material than the base and figures that are on top of it. Instead of being hard plastic, it’s bristly like a scrub brush. It doesn’t seem sturdy enough to support much weight. Another is that this ornament is designed to sit flat , so hanging it really doesn’t make sense. There’s usually at least one new Pooh display piece like this out every year; at this point, they’ve pretty much taken over our piano.

This ornament has a light blue base, on the bottom of which is a silver wind-up key. Along side of the base, which is circular with a three-inch diameter, are written the words “O Christmas tree! O Christmas tree! Of all the trees most lovely...” This base is about an inch tall, with a ridge of sparkling snow around the top. The surface on top of which the characters are situated is a powdery blue, with an island of snow in the middle, upon which rests the dark green, snow-covered Christmas tree.

Four characters are participants in this festive little gathering. Pooh, about an inch and three quarters tall, has a wide smile on his face as he sings, open book in hand. The implication, of course, is that he is reading the words to a carol, though I never got the impression that Pooh was much good at reading. Same goes for Tigger and Piglet, for that matter. But maybe the books are just for show; after all, the pages are blank. Pooh wears a light blue scarf and Tigger, “standing” on his scrunched-up tail, wears a green one. Piglet, in between them and about a quarter of an inch shorter, has a lavender scarf and carries a golden bell.

Eeyore, opposite Piglet, wears no jolly adornments at all, just the usual pink ribbon on his tail. His head is cocked as if to listen, as the poem suggests, though since he is part of the procession, it seems he would chime in a bit more. He doesn’t look like an observer; he comes off as one of the carolers. If it weren’t for the verse on the box, I’d suspect that he has no book because he’s more skilled at memorizing than the others. And as a donkey, I don’t know how he would tie a scarf around his own neck; I would hope that someone might take a hint away from this outing, though, and give him a scarf for Christmas, and offer to attach it as well.

There’s only limited space around this tree, so I can‘t complain too much about missing characters. One might imagine that the other residents of the Hundred Acre Wood are standing off beyond the boundaries of the ornament, listening appreciatively. I’m sure Kanga and Roo would enjoy such a performance, though I doubt Roo would sit still and listen for long; he’d want to jump in at the first opportunity! Christopher Robin would certainly lend an ear. Gopher, Rabbit and Owl all have more cantankerous dispositions, but at this time of year, one would hope that they would be inclined to be a good audience. I’m a little surprised the sculptor didn’t sneak Rabbit in here, though; I would expect him to have organized this little excursion himself, making it much more complicated than necessary. And there’s a space between Eeyore and Pooh that would probably be large enough to accommodate Rabbit, certainly if the others shifted a smidgen.

But the four characters we get are wonderfully vibrant and detailed and when one winds the key, the track they are on revolves around the tree to the tinkly tune of O Christmas Tree. It’s like a Hundred Acre Wood merry-go-round. The figures themselves don’t actually move in relation to the ground or each other, so the movement is not very sophisticated, and at times the key gets stuck and the turning stops before it should. Picking the ornament up or just rearranging it a bit usually fixes the problem. This isn’t my favorite of the “magic” Pooh ornaments that I have, but I do get a smile out of it. Pooh and his pals can come caroling in my neighborhood any time!

Pip Rejects Hibernation for a Talking Tree in The Christmas Cub

Over the years, I have read dozens of Christmas books, and I have noticed that a few particular types of stories keep popping up again and again. The Little Drummer Boy. A Christmas Carol. A Visit from St. Nicholas. Books about snowmen. Books about a character’s first Christmas, usually focusing on an animal, often one that ought to be hibernating. Fitting right into this last group of stories is The Christmas Cub, a Level 2 Hello Reader! book designed to be read by children from kindergarten to second grade.

Justine Korman Fontes writes this simple story that treads familiar ground as a bear cub named Pip obeys his curiosity instead of his mother’s lethargic instructions to stay in his cave for the winter. What he discovers is a cabin containing a small family much like the Ingalls family in Little House in the Big Woods. Pip observes the people intently while Evergreen, a cheerful talking tree growing outside the cabin, explains to the bear what is going on.

Children’s literature is so full of talking animals that I always accept them without question. But talking trees is another matter. This is not the only Christmas book I’ve read to give a tree a personality, but it’s usually more organic; we get the tree’s feelings, but it doesn’t speak, and there’s maybe just a hint of a smile or a frown in the arrangement of the branches. Here, the tree chatters on amicably and always has a pleasant smile and rosy cheeks. What’s more, that expression is plastered on a smooth green spot toward the top of the tree that makes it look very phony indeed.

There’s also the matter of the bear’s parents, who issue one feeble warning to stay in the cave and then immediately fall asleep, never to be seen again. Sleepy parents are a recurring theme in many books of this type, but Pip’s mom and dad just check out completely. Then there’s the gift that Pip decides to give the tree. It’s a cute idea resulting in a vibrant picture, but it makes no scientific sense whatsoever. Then again, what do I expect from a book with talking trees? Speaking of which, this book credits Pip with the invention of the first Christmas tree, when they had been in use in various places since the 1500s, well before the setting of this story.

While I can’t help being a little weirded out by the beatifically grinning tree, Lucinda McQueen’s illustrations are otherwise fairly endearing. The creatures are about halfway between cartoonish and realistic, with the chipper gray squirrel my favorite of the background animals. I like Fontes’ dedication to her illustrator: “For Lulu, who draws the purr as well as the fur.” McQueen definitely succeeds in bringing across a general feeling of contentment.

The Christmas Cub is fairly cute, and most children in this age group should find it a manageable read. But given the wealth of “first Christmas” books out there, this is hardly the first in the category that I would recommend.

Allan Say Brings Christmas to a Small Japanese Family in Tree of Cranes

As someone who has grown up with Christmas as far back as I can remember, it’s easy to take the holiday for granted. But imagine being a little bit older at the time of one’s first Christmas experience. That’s what Allen Say does in Tree of Cranes, a lovely picture book that offers a peek at a cross-cultural Christmas celebration.

The unnamed narrator recounts for us the first Christmas of his life, which occurred in Japan “when I was not yet old enough to wear long pants.” We never learn just who the boy is, because although this is primarily a story about a boy and his mother, and to a much lesser extent his father, neither parents calls the child by name. Indeed, there is a definite distance between child and adults; it seems that Papa is rarely home, while Mama longs for some alone time, though for safety’s sake she forbids the boy to wander to his favorite spot, the neighbor’s pond, where we see him playing in the first of the book’s paintings, and one of the loveliest. There is a luminous quality to the illustrations reflecting the peace that prevails throughout this little family.

The boy is a sweet, albeit overly curious, child. I can’t fault him much for his inquisitiveness because his mother is so tight-lipped. Eventually, she explains to him what she is up to, but before that, she seems to ignore him for long stretches of time, apparently not so much because she wants to surprise him but because she has become so caught up in nostalgia that she scarcely remembers he exists. Her reprobation regarding the pond would probably be unnecessary if she were more attentive to her son. This odd disconnect between parent and child is the one negative in this story, though there is a sense that perhaps this shared Christmas celebration will bring them closer together.

My favorite aspect of the story is the pine tree his mother brings into the house. It’s the boy’s, as his parents planted it when he was born in hopes that he, like the tree, would enjoy a long life. This seems like a beautiful tradition, and it reminds me of The Little Fir Tree, a wonderful Christmas story by Margaret Wise Brown. What is especially neat is the sight of this particular tree, which looks like an oversized bonsai, all covered with paper cranes and shining candles, making it very unusual-looking but thoroughly beautiful. The boy’s longed-for Christmas present and the snowman he builds also are indicative of Japanese culture, with his mother’s California upbringing creating an interesting hybrid.

I don’t know if this book is intended to be autobiographical or is merely a story that Say made up, but in any event, Tree of Cranes is a touching story of two cultures coming together.

Lift the Flaps as The Berenstain Bears Trim the Tree

The Berenstain Bears have been around for a long time, long enough to have several books dedicated to their Christmas celebrations. These include The Berenstain Bears’ Christmas Tree, The Berenstain Bears Meet Santa Bear and The Berenstain Bears Save Christmas. More recent than any of these is The Berenstain Bears Trim the Tree, a book that is not so much about the story as it is about the pictures, and finding little surprises in the illustrations.

This lift-the-flap book aims at a slightly younger audience than the typical Berenstain book, with little in the way of narration and less in the way of plot or character. For a book of this format, such things can afford to be a bit lacking, since it’s really all about lifting up those stiff bits of paper and unearthing whatever is hidden underneath. The reason for the peeking in this story is that various items keep disappearing, prompting inquiries of “Where is [the missing object]?”

Like most books in the series, this one is full of colorful illustrations, both above the flaps and below. Each page has just a single flap, so it’s not a book that’s likely to keep youngsters occupied for long periods of time, but it’s a start. A trek up to the attic for ornaments is fun and may inspire kids to check out their own attics, if they’re lucky enough to have them, for long-lost treasures. There’s also a Christmas light-untangling scene that should ring true with anyone who has ever hung those delightful but dastardly decorations.

Another nice element of this book is the fact that it includes Honey Bear, the youngest member of the Bear family who has only been a part of the series for about a decade. There’s a mildly chaotic feel to the book, but on the whole it’s rather uneventful. Additionally, because it’s not a board book, it might not hold up too well with vigorous young readers. But at least for the first couple of times through, The Berenstain Bears Trim the Tree is a fun option for young Berenstain Bears fans.

Christmas Goes Underwater in A Merry Mermaid Christmas

I’ve read Christmas stories set in many different types of locales. But A Merry Mermaid Christmas, written by Mary Man-Kong and illustrated by Bob Berry, is the first I’ve encountered that takes place underwater.

This colorful paperback takes readers to the majestic undersea kingdom of Atlantica introduced in Disney’s animated feature, The Little Mermaid. In the film, Ariel is 16, and she doesn’t seem much younger than that here; the much younger Flounder also seems about the same age as in the film, so I’d say it’s set within a year before the events of the movie. Not that continuity is a huge concern in Little Mermaid prequels, as demonstrated by the movie Ariel’s Beginning.

The book boasts an eye-catching cover, which is textured and sprinkled with sparkles. Inside, the illustrations are less striking but consistent with the look of the movies and TV series. The book is written in simple prose and involves Ariel’s discovery of the human holiday of Christmas. She’s so taken with it that she decides that the merpeople and their aquatic friends should have their own celebration, complete with a makeshift Christmas tree, decorations and a secret gift exchange.

Scatter-brained seagull Scuttle has a large role to play in the book, as he tells Ariel all about Christmas after she discovers some artifacts discarded from a celebration. Along the way, he characteristically offers some amusing names and definitions for ordinary objects, calling a book a “wopple” and a Christmas star a “sparkleydoo”. The sparkleydoo ends up being the central object of the book, as Ariel finds a very special purpose for it.

It’s fun to see Christmas traditions translated into an underwater context. The “Christmas tree” consists of sea plants stacked on top of each other to resemble an evergreen, and gifts given include a seaweed scarf and a shell necklace. Of course, snow is out, but on the whole, the scene looks very festive, and the celebration emphasizes the value of generosity.

This is a simple tale for young fans of The Little Mermaid. It’s not particularly involved, but I’d say it works better than the film sequels do. The basic story would have worked well as an episode of the television series. If you’re dreaming of an aquatic Christmas, have a look at A Merry Mermaid Christmas.

An Evergreen Is Ever Useful in Who Would Like a Christmas Tree?

Last weekend was Halloween. Our house is still decked out with pumpkins, black cats and bats. But I heard my first carol on a commercial last night, and the grocery store down the street is selling artificial trees. The Christmas season has unofficially begun. One of my favorite ways to ring in this part of the year is to peruse Christmas picture books. This season’s first for me is Who Would Like a Christmas Tree?: A Tree for All Seasons, written by Ellen Bryan Obed and illustrated by Anne Hunter, both of whom have first-hand experience with Christmas tree farms. This is a nice book to ease me into Christmas mode, since it focuses on a Christmassy object, but mostly in non-Christmassy situations.

Obed and Hunter follow the same basic format through the book. “Who would like a Christmas tree in January? is the opening inquiry. Turn the page, and you’ll see the response, once again in bold print: “We would like a Christmas tree in January.” Each month gets two pages in which the volunteers explain, in fairly lengthy paragraphs, why they would like a Christmas tree in that particular month. First it’s the black-capped chickadees, then the field mice, then the white-tailed deer and so on.

Each month offers insights into the habits of that particular animal (or, in one case, plant), and the accompanying illustrations show the changing of the seasons. Some descriptions make references to Christmas despite their distance from the actual holiday; for instance, the monarch butterflies, who would like a tree in August, indicate that they “feed on flowers and rest like delicate black and orange ornaments on the milkweeds and Christmas trees.” In October, the fox, first mentioned in association with the mice, gets a month to himself. Throughout the first 11 months of the year, we see the trees serving a variety of important purposes before finally coming to rest, on the last page, in the living room of a happy family.

Like Ann Purmell’s Christmas Tree Farm, this is a book whose aim is mostly educational. Children can learn about various types of wildlife and how evergreens fit into that picture. In a two-page segment in the back, children can read what tree farmers do during each month of the year to prepare for December. This section shows how much work is involved in operating a tree farm and mentions that the trees shown in the book are Balsam Firs and Fraser Firs. The writing is pretty dry; it’s mostly a collection of facts, with the familiar refrain and the fairly detailed pictures to help keep kids’ interest. My favorite illustration shows a trio of bright-eyed chickadees searching for seeds among fir branches.

For a child interested in the background of Christmas tree production, I recommend this and Christmas Tree Farm together. As a story, it’s only mildly engaging, but as a learning tool, Who Would Like a Christmas Tree? is useful.

A Gorgeous Tale of a Boy and HisTree

Every year, my family embarks upon a quest to secure a Christmas tree for our living room. Maybe we'll get lucky and find the perfect tree on the first try; more likely we'll drive all around town before we finally succeed. It will fill our house with the sweet scent of pine and the warm glow of lights for the rest of the month. But come January, its needles will fall, and the once-majestic tree will be relegated to the curb for an undignified pick-up. Such is the way of things for most Christmas trees.

But in Margaret Wise Brown's The Little Fir Tree, Christmas does not signal an ending for our arboreal protagonist. This spunky sapling dreams of being part of something, having lived in isolation since a brisk wind swept him away from the forest as a seedling. One day, his silent wish is granted when a man arrives, digging him out of the ground and taking him home to be a companion for his lame son. The fir witnesses and partakes in the joys of the season, and when spring approaches, he returns to the field, larger and stronger. Several months later, the man returns, and the scenario repeats itself. The tree and the boy will grow together.

This gentle book is beautifully written, particularly in its descriptions of the seasons. Spring comes "flashing with bees and flowers"; summer "drone[s] its hot bee-buzzing days," autumn skies "whirl their falling leaves and milkweed parachutes". In winter, the season we see most often, "grasses of the fields crackle with the diamond light of ice." But the illustrations are even more stunning, soft and luminous, with paintings by Jim LaMarche, who also provided gorgeous paintings for Bear's First Christmas. The scenes are almost photo-realistic, tinged with a Thomas Kinkade-style glow that accentuates the goodwill of each of the book's characters.

This environmentally friendly tale is a celebration of life, growth and togetherness. Each year, the boy gets a little stronger, the tree gets a little fuller and the group of children who gather and sing the boy's special song - "O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree, your greenest branches live for me" - gets a little bigger. But one year, the kind man with the broad arms and crinkly eyes fails to come for the tree. Has something terrible happened to the boy? Is the tree destined to be lonesome for the rest of his life?

Never fear. The conclusion to this tale is tender without being tragic, and the undercurrent of brotherhood and hope running through the story complements the marvelous illustrations perfectly and makes it one of the loveliest Christmas picture books I've read.