Marvelous Cornelius: Hurricane Katrina and the Spirit of New Orleans by Phil Bildner

Marvelous Cornelius: Hurricane Katrina and the Spirit of New Orleans by Phil Bildner, illustrated by John Parra

Chronicle Books

Rating: 4 stars

Cornelius Washington is not a typical subject for nonfiction picture books. He was a garbage man in the French Quarter in New Orleans before and when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. He once was written about in the Times-Picayune and described as "a wizard of trash cans."

Cornelius did his job as a garbageman, usually thought of as nasty but necessary, with flair. He seemed to have fun with it, but also take it very seriously. The people in the Quarter knew him and waved as Cornelius danced with lids, threw trash bags into formation, and kept the streets "sparkling."

When Hurricane Katrina hit, Cornelius was devastated to see the city he loved so devastated. Water flooded the city; the city was "a gumbo of mush and mud." New Orleans was destroyed. Cornelius was overwhelmed with the amount of work to do--there was so much to clean up and rebuild. Cornelius, like many others, dried his eyes and got to work. The same people who waved to him weeks and months and years before pitched in to help--the people of New Orleans all helped. And others from far away came to help, too.

(He leaves out the looting and lawlessness--probably a good idea for this age group.)

The story ends the way all picture books do: happily. The city is rebuilt to its former glory in a couple dozen pages. Even though Cornelius Washington passed away soon after Katrina, Bildner writes that he symbolizes the spirit of New Orleans--the determination, flair, and friendliness that will always be a part of the city.

Without getting too stuck in the murkiness of history, I think Bildner does a great job of shining the spotlight on a person who doesn't normally show up in picture books. The quotation at the beginning of the book by Martin Luther King, Jr., sets the scene well:

Even if it's called your lot to be a street sweeper, go out and sweep streets like Michelangelo painted pictures, sweep streets like Handel and Beethoven composed music, sweep streets like Shakespeare wrote poetry. Sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will have to phase and say, "Here lived a great street sweeper who swept his job well."

Whatever you are, do it well. And Cornelius seems to have done this.

I think it's important to note that Phil Bildner admits to taking some liberty with the true story of Cornelius. He first becomes interested in Cornelius because he sounded like a legend, like a myth, like a story from the American folk tradition. He admits to exaggerating the facts he has about Cornelius in order to carry on the spirit of his story. I hope Cornelius' surviving family supports the book.

Gracias / Thanks by Pat Mora

Gracias Thanks by Pat Mora, illustrated by John Parra

Rating: 4.5 stars

I'm on the hunt for a great birthday book for a wonderful little almost 5 year-old in our life, and I thought this might be It.  It's not It, but it's still a good book and worthy of a read, especially if you're bilingual.  (Some of the things for which the little boy is grateful are a bit random, or else this would be a 5.)

The premise here is pretty simple: On each page, the little boy you see on the cover of the book gives thanks for something.  I love how specific and funny in a little kid way he is.  For example: "For the sun that wakes me up so I don't sleep for years and years and grow a long, white beard, thanks." 

Or "For the bees that didn't sting me and turn me into a pincushion, thanks."  I love that he thinks about something that didn't happen and gives thanks for that.

The book isn't religious in an outright way, so it's perfect for those of us who are religious in a less-outright way.  (Though it is definitely like the Catholic Prayers of the Faithful...let me know if you agree if/when you've read this book.)  There are so many things to give thanks for--whether you do that while walking around your yard, cuddling your newborn, or singing with a congregation.  I love that there exists a very nice children's book that reminds of all the itsy-bitsy things that we--children and adults alike--should say thanks for.  How different a world we'd live in if we could all appreciate what we've got just a little bit more.

So, here's my own additional entries in my imaginary Gracias / Thanks book:

For the heat of the sun that gives us a great reason to play with buckets and sprinklers and cups and hoses, and an opportunity for some wet giggles, thanks.

For Lorelei, who hugged me again and again and again when Jonathan and I came home from our short little second honeymoon yesterday, thanks.

For Ben, who sometimes makes me laugh so hard that I might possibly snort coffee out of my nose one of these days, thanks.

For Jonathan, who challenges and comforts me, thanks.

For my friends and family and maybe, if I'm lucky, a few others who read this blog, thanks.