Winged Children Celebrate the Season in Little Angels' Book of Christmas

Artist Joan Walsh Anglund has books dating back several decades, and many of the illustrations in her early books feature drab color schemes or no color at all. Little Angels’ Book of Christmas, published in 1997, is strikingly different because the colors are so vibrant. Every picture is in full color, and while red and green are the most prominent colors, she uses a whole range of hues, incorporating yellow to especially good effect.

This book is slightly taller and almost twice as wide as the typical skinny Anglund book, so it has a very different look to it. Curiously, with more room to work with, her illustrations become less detailed. They’re still lovely to look at, but the landscapes in particular feel a bit more generic than in her earlier books. I find the color technique interesting, with the children generally having very thick color around the outsides of their clothing and very little on the middle portions. It’s a type of shading that is very pronounced.

The writing style is rather curious here because she alternates between prose and rhymed verse. Because she doesn’t stick to one or the other, it creates a feeling of incongruity lasting throughout the book. That’s probably my major complaint here. The book feels unnecessarily uneven. What’s more, some of the rhythm feels a bit clunky.

I’m also not entirely sure what purpose is served by giving all the children wings. In most of the illustrations, they just look like ordinary kids who happen to be able to take to the skies at a moment’s notice. In only one picture do we see an angel interacting with a normal child, and that scarcely-clothed angel looks like Cupid, while the rest are fully dressed and, aside from the tiny angels resting inside of stockings, the size of normal children.

While this book has a specific Christian focus and is more concerned with the nativity, it mentions Santa Claus, though only in the text. As a proud Swede, I get a kick out of the Santa Lucia wreath adorning the head of one golden-haired girl, though I wish that she was dressed in white instead of pink. However, aside from the nearly naked angel, all of them wear robes of green, gold or pink. While only one angel wears a wreath with candles on it, several have garlands on their heads, and they look especially nice on the children in green.

This is one of several Little Angels books, and while it is not my favorite of her Christmas reflections, the angels do seem well suited for this occasion. For a slightly celestial take on the Christmas season, have a look at Little Angels’ Book of Christmas.

Nativity Books

In the midst of all the stories about Santa Claus, there are still plenty of picture books that celebrate the Nativity.

Celebrate Christmas With the Veggies With The Stable That Bob Built

Last Christmas, I received the VeggieTales Nativity Playset. I’d been eyeing it for a while and was tickled to own it at last, though I was surprised that Bob the Tomato, one of the two leading characters in the children’s video series, did not appear as one of the figures. Little did I know that the set has a companion book that explains just what Bob is up to while several of his fellow Veggies are putting on a Christmas pageant. The Stable That Bob Built, written by Cindy Kenney and vibrantly illustrated by Greg Hardin and Robert Vann, with art direction by Karen Poth, is a rhyming story that parodies The House That Jack Built.

On the title page, underneath a picture of Jimmy and Jerry Gourd in their cow costume, is Luke 2:10-11: “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy. It is for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you. He is Christ the Lord.” Actually, this iconic passage is printed twice - once in the front and once in the back - and there’s a typo in the first one, changing “has” to “had,” which seems awfully sloppy when these two verses sum up the purpose of the book. Otherwise, however, this is a high-quality storybook that covers the basics of the Nativity in an entertaining fashion.

Bob is the set designer for the Bumblyburg Christmas pageant. A two-page spread before the title page shows us his detailed blueprints for the stable, often with amusing side comments that get other characters involved. Diva-ish Madame Blueberry, who doesn’t appear in this book at all, is mentioned as offering to lend Bob knobs from her kitchen to be used on the stable window. Meanwhile, uptight Archibald Asparagus is listed as the director, though we never see him either. Bob, on the other hand, shows up on several pages, generally looking cheerful in his yellow hardhat and brown tool belt.

The cast of the pageant is exactly the same as in my set, with a couple of exceptions. The book includes Mr. Nezzer as “the guy / who didn’t know how to milk the cow / that mooed in the stable that Bob built.” From his appearance - dressed up in a brown robe and nightcap, with keys dangling from a rope around his shoulder and carrying a lantern - I’d deduce that he is the innkeeper, though the book never specifically indicates this. Mr. Nezzer is absent from my set, and while the book includes four peas dressed as sheep, my set has only two.

Whenever a new character is introduced, the noun describing him or her is shown in large, bold print, along with the word “This” or “These,” which starts off each page. Nouns from earlier in the book continue to get the large-print treatment, though not all of them do on any given page. Other significant nouns include baby (Lenny Carrot as Jesus); star; three wise men (Larry the Cucumber, Pa Grape, Mr. Lunt); man (anonymous gourd as Joseph); woman (Mabel Gourd as Mary); angel (Laura Carrot); and shepherd (Junior Asparagus, inexplicably munching on apple pie).  Aside from the fact that the Junior seems to be eating apple pie solely for the sake of a rhyme, there’s a smooth, logical progression of lines from page to page, and Kenney weaves her cumulative story in a manner that puts the primary focus on the biblical account, letting the illustrators furnish the Veggies’ individual personalities.

A final page serves as an epilogue of sorts, explaining, “These are the Veggies who played the parts / in the story that lives in all of our hearts...” This accompanies a silly two-page spread in which the flashlight-bearing Laura, suspended from a rope, zooms over the rest of the cast, some of whom have switched costumes. Mr. Lunt looks rather dashing in Pa Grape’s turban, but his crown is much too big for Pa’s head. Meanwhile, Larry looks ridiculous wearing the front half of the Gourds’ cow costume, and Mr. Nezzer seems irritated by the totem pole of sheep beside him.

Fans of VeggieTales are sure to enjoy this slightly chaotic homage to the traditional Christmas pageant by way of a well-worn children’s poem, and The Stable That Bob Built is especially recommended reading for anyone who owns the VeggieTales Nativity Playset or plans to buy it. Who knew a guy with no hands would turn out to be such a handyman?

Andrew Clements and Kate Kiesler imagine a Heavenly Perspective in Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers

Angels often appear in Christmas picture books, but usually as secondary characters, almost an afterthought in a succession of Nativity characters. But in Andrew Clements’ Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers, illustrated by Kate Kiesler, an angel serves as the narrator, and he speaks for the angelic host at large, painting a poetic picture of their role in the centuries leading up to Jesus’ birth and their perspective on that event now.

Kiesler’s magnificent paintings fill 13 two-page spreads. One spread, showing Joseph and Mary departing from the inn, features no words at all, but all of the others are accompanied by what I would term one verse, though the length of these verses varies widely from three to 16 lines. There’s an air of holy mystery about the angelic perspective; the narrator explains that time is rather meaningless in Heaven but that one particular night stands out above all others. “Once I sing a song, the song never stops,” he writes. “It’s like a star that burns forever. / Christmas is the brightest / and the happiest song I ever sang.”

The long period of time covered in the book, and the theme of song, reminds me of The Lord of the Dance, in which Jesus, as speaker, begins by stating, “I danced on the morning when the world began, / I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun...” The angel mentions specific figures in the Old Testament: Moses, David, Isaiah, each getting the world one step closer to the arrival of the Messiah.

Kiesler’s paintings are gorgeous, luminous and rich in detail. A note in the back explains how attentive she was to archaeological accuracy, particularly in the matter of the inn, which is a “kataluma,” or temporary shelter, and the stable, which is a cave. Two of the paintings reminds me of Michael Card songs. The shepherds reacting in awe to the angels’ message calls to mind the gentle Shepherd’ Watch, while the close-up on Mary’s illuminated face goes perfectly with What Her Heart Remembered. Both songs come from his Christmas album The Promise.

We don’t actually see angels at any time, but they are artistically represented by doves or, in a couple of cases, a single feather. Probably to emphasize Mary’s closeness to God, Kiesler paints her with a dove necklace. Also appearing on almost every page are stars, which serve as reminders of light and of antiquity.

Bright Christmas: An Angel Remembers is a beautiful book. I’d recommend it particularly for Sunday School libraries, along with the homes of those who believe that “That night, a light was lit like no other.”

Mary and Martha Share in the Miracle of Life in One Winter's Night

There was no room for Jesus in the inn. I know that was a travesty, and yet I've always been so moved by the notion of Him being born in a stable amongst all the livestock. No doubt many births had occurred there before and would again; it always struck me as a warm, friendly sort of place to be born, and much more accessible to visiting shepherds than a lush room indoors. So I always like books that focus on the humble circumstances of Jesus' birth.

One Winter's Night is rather odd as a Nativity story because while the text clearly hints at the divine identity of the baby about to be born and goes so far as to name the man and woman as Joseph and Mary, the setting certainly does not seem to be Bethlehem of two thousand years ago. The watercolor and pastel illustrations by husband-and-wife team Leo and Diane Dillon depict a barn that definitely doesn't look more than a couple centuries old, at most. It could even be a modern farm, though none of the tools scattered about the yard, which is enclosed with a wooden fence, are motorized.

When Mary and Joseph arrive at the farm - which we see in pictures but don't actually witness in the text - there is no sign of an innkeeper, or perhaps a farmer in this case. There's no indication that there was anywhere else they might have stayed, or why they were traveling in the first place if not for the census. This ambiguous modernization of the Holy Family is a bit confusing, though it's interesting to see them in another context. The humans have kind faces with dark skin. They are bundled up against the snow, so we don't get a very clear picture of what they're wearing, though Mary is in the traditional blue and bearded Joseph wears a hat.

Each of the left-hand pictures is half-sized, with room for text on the bottom, and sepia-toned, while the right-hand illustrations are in full color and occupy the whole page. These directly complement the narration, while the smaller paintings indicate what is happening elsewhere, first showing Mary and Joseph's arrival and later a growing crowd of creatures from neighboring land gathering outside the barn to witness this very special event.

The main focus of the book is not on Mary and Joseph but on Martha, a young cow about to give birth for the first time. She wanders into the barn in search of humans to watch over her, and Joseph soon begins to comfort the frightened beast. The paintings of Martha, whose naming as a complement to Mary must have been deliberate, are lovely; I just want to reach right into the scene and scratch her behind the ears. The book extolls the compassion of Mary and Joseph as they welcome her into the stable and take measures to ensure her comfort.

In creating the parallel between Mary and Martha, first-time picture book author John Herman perhaps downplays the divinity of Jesus, particularly when Joseph says, "Well, now, two glorious babies on one winter's night." But as James Herriot demonstrated time and again in his tales of delivering livestock in sub-zero temperatures, every birth is a miracle. To emphasize that fact is to glorify the Creator, and I assume that this was Herman's intention. In that spirit, the beauteous One Winter's Night is a lovely and life-affirming tale.