Little Blue Truck by Alice Schertle

Little Blue Truck by Alice Schertle, illustrated by Jill McElmurry

Rating: 5 beep! beep! beep! stars

The word delightful is pretty overused when it comes to childrens' books.  But sometimes, it just fits.  It's the main word that comes to mind when I think of this book.  It's delightful to read aloud, it's delightful to listen to, and it's a delightful message overall.

Delightful, delightful, delightful!

I got it out of my system now, so I can get back to writing.

Over a year ago when Ben was just six months old or something around that--with the second you round up, starting a few weeks after birth--I felt a little badly that all he got was hand-me-downs.  His onesies were already stained, some of his blankets were pink, and all his books were already worn.  So we were at a bookstore and I decided to buy a few "baby boy" books.  I came across this one.  Jackpot!

This is a fun poem with lots of farm animals and a cool truck, all of which make sounds like Oink and Neigh and Beep--it makes Ben happy every time we read it.  They are speaking his language!  It is so fun to read aloud.  Oh, and I've not even gotten to the storyline: there's a good message plainly hidden in the words and the illustrations (which are super delightful...oops, I said it again). 

Little Blue is a friendly truck that beeps to everyone he passes.  Then we meet the dump truck, which "doesn't have time to pass the day / with every duck along the way." Then the dump gets stuck in the mud, and no one responds when he honks his important, busy, and frightened horn.  But Little Blue tries to push him out, of course, but then gets stuck himself.  And everyone responds to his "Beep!  Beep!  Beep! / I'm stuck, I'm stuck!" call of distress.  After all the animals come to the rescue, the dump truck sees "that a lot depends / on the helping hand / of a few good friends."

Little Blue doesn't gloat or say I told you so (how mature of him!); he just offers all his animal friends a ride home.

This is a wonderful, wonderful book.  I am reminded of it because the sequel just came out...a review of Little Blue Truck Leads the Way is coming soon!  I know you'll be on the edge of your seats, my imaginary friends.

Wilfred Gordon McDonald Partridge by Mem Fox

 Wilfred Gordon McDonald Partridge by Mem Fox, illustrated by Julia Vivas

Rating: 5 quirky stars

During the first few years of my parents' divorce, I didn't think there would be much good to come of it, for me. But, as it always does, time proves one wrong. I realized how much I had to gain from certain new people in my life that appeared because something else disappeared. Carmen is one of those people. Carmen is my stepfather's mother, and she is the best character in my real life that I have. She is one of the strongest women I have ever met, which means to say that she is stubborn beyond belief, hard-headed to a fault, and so strong-willed that it's hard to leave a conversation with her without feeling frustrated. But man is she cool. I don't wonder what she was like as a younger version of herself in Germany before she married a soldier and became a more ordinary American than she really would have preferred because I can't imagine a diluted version of Carmen.

How does Carmen fit in with Wilfred Gordon McDonald Partridge? Good question. I come from a long line of tangent-talkers, so I'll cut to the chase: First, this book is about memory, and about memory loss. Young Wilfred Gordon lives next to an old folks' home, and befriends all of its characters. His favorite, Miss Nancy, is losing her memory--he finds this out because his parents are talking about her. Being so young, he's oblivious to such big concepts as "memory" so he goes to his friends, those wise wrinkled ones at the old folks' home, to find out. They each tell him something different: "Something warm" or "something funny" or "something sad" and he goes to find something of his own that represents that something in order to help Miss Nancy regain her memory. It is a quirky book for the children's section, and the few times I've explained what this book is about to other mothers, their eyes widen.

Obviously, Miss Nancy has Alzheimer's, as does our beloved Carmen. The woman whose intellect and personality was once so fierce, strong, spot-on, and quick is now murky, confused, unsure, and lost. It is hard to watch, and I have the comfortable spot of watching from several hundred miles away. But can you imagine watching someone who was once such a force shrink? It breaks my heart.

And, at the same time as Carmen is losing her memory, Lorelei is gaining hers. It is just mind-boggling to watch a little girl and old woman be in a very similar spot at this very moment, but each with a very different future. These days, I am so aware that Lorelei is now so aware, and will be able to remember some of these days for decades to come. In the first few years of her life I realized that memory was more of a feeling, just knowing that she was beloved and admired and cherished created an aura of a memory that, hopefully, will be a good foundation for the rest of her memories both in this house and beyond. And here is Carmen, who is currently at the twilight of her journey, who might be able to remember random things--hopefully incredibly wonderful highlights of her incredible and often wonderful life--but not always specifics. Hopefully her memory at this point is like an infants--a warm, secure feeling, rather than specific anything. For me, it is just a crazy thing to even attempt to wrap my head around.

But Mem Fox, through this book, somehow does it. Mem Fox says "I decided to write a book that might bring children and the elderly together in the hope that teachers would initiate the inter-generational contact." (Check out the story of how she wrote it and who the characters represent.) I am in awe that she was able to bring such grace and wisdom to Miss Alice, and such sweet naivety and gentleness to Wilfred Gordon in such few words, with beautiful, somehow floating illustrations by Julia Vivas. Bravo. I can only hope that some spirit or magic is passed between my little Lorelei and the grand Carmen somehow, someway.