I Just Want to Say Good Night by Rachel Isadora

I Just Want to Say Good Night by Rachel Isadora
Nancy Paulsen Books

Rating: 5 stars

Thousands of miles away from most of the readers of Rachel Isadora's new book in a small African village, parents are putting their children to sleep.

Including Lala, the main character in this book who, like many American children, wants to procrastinate on her way to bed. Rather than ask for a glass of water or another bedtime story, Lala wants to tell all the animals and things around her "good night."

"I want to say good night to the cat," Lala says.

"I want to say good night to the goat," Lala says.

"I want to say good night to the rock," Lala says. (This one made me smile--it would exasperate me if it was my own child.)

Each "good night" has a corresponding two-page, gorgeous illustration of the African village, cast in the warm colors of sunset, thousands of miles away from the reader. Thanks to the magic of a good book, the reader is transported to that village as Lala "good-nights" her way to bed.

Finally...

"Now!" her mother says.

Through one wordless two-page spread, we see Lala go inside, wash up, and get into bed. She has a book in her hand and, as she reads it, she whispers, "Good Night, Moon!"

You guessed it: It is the same book that most American children own or at least read. I love that last image--someone thousands of miles away reading the very same book the reader has read her/himself.

This book provides a perfect example of how to give a new twist to something that's done many times before. You've seen this before. You've read this type of book before. The type of book that closes out the day in a series of good-nights. But Isadora puts a great twist on this already-done story by placing her story in an unfamiliar setting, and then placing a familiar book in the hands of Lala.

It works beautifully.

My children and I are not strangers to Rachel Isadora. Her stories and pictures have filled my children's first years as readers. We only own one, but it is in Kiefer's bedroom, not downstairs on the children's library shelf--Nick Plays Baseball. Read my review of that book plus another one that Lorelei loved as a little girl, Lili at Ballet HERE.

Undefeated: Jim Thorpe and the Carlisle Indian School Football Team by Steve Sheinkin

Undefeated: Jim Thorpe and the Carlisle Indian School Football Team by Steve Sheinkin

Roaring Brook Press

Rating: 5 stars

I'm a big, huge fan of this author. Steve Sheinkin writes nonfiction middle grade books that are well-written, well-researched, fast-paced and informative--I really wish they were around when I was growing up. My favorite of his is Bomb: The Race to Build--and Steal--the World's Most Dangerous Weapon. C'mon, with a title like that, how can you not pick it up?! 

Undefeated is about Jim Thorpe, a Native American athlete who dominated almost any sport he attempted (baseball is the notable exception, as documented in the book). Born around the turn of the century, when Native Americans were being herded onto reservations and assimilated into white American culture, Thorpe was forced to go to the Carlisle Indian Industrial School in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. The story centers around the meeting of and relationship between Thorpe and Pop Warner. Warner, in case, like me, you're not a football fan, was a football mastermind who hailed from the top of society, having graduated from, then coached in, the Ivy League.

These two men could not have had more different backgrounds.

Yet, Pop Warner realized Jim Thorpe was the most gifted athlete he had ever seen. He knew that within moments of meeting Thorpe, after watching him outrun a pack of Warner's well-trained and well-seasoned football players. And so the two began their relationship, which has been lauded the "most winningest" combination in sports history.

Sheinkin chronicles Thorpe's rise in football, and how he crossed over to track and field to take advantage of his speed. From there, he volunteered to give decathlons a try. Turns out he was a shoo-in for such a demanding sport, and he represented the United States in that sport and the pentathlon in the 1912 Olympics. He was the first Native American to earn a gold medal. (Later, due to the fact that he accepted payment as a minor league baseball player, Thorpe was stripped of his medals.)

In addition to Thorpe's fascinating life and sports career, Sheinkin reports on the history of Native Americans in the United States. The chapters about how Native Americans were forced to schools such as the one at Carlisle, stripped of their birth name and given a "white" name, and then punished for remembering or practicing anything from their native tribes is eye-opening and humbling. In addition, Sheinkin writes about the early years of football. I'm pretty much the opposite of a football fan (don't tell my Seahawks-crazed neighbors that), but found that part of the book really interesting.

Clearly, this is not a book for really young children. But it is an excellent choice for curious, history-minded readers age ten or older, and could be read aloud to a slightly younger child (so that younger readers could have their inevitable questions about Native American policies answered right away).

Lucia the Luchadora by Cynthia Leonor Garza

Lucia the Luchadora by Cynthia Leonor Garza
POW!

Rating: 5 stars

Lucia is a girl who can jump off the highest monkey bars at the playground and run faster than lightening. Still, the boys make fun of her for being a girl. They tease her that girls are nothing but "sugar and spice and everything nice." This makes Lucia mad.

"Spicy mad. KA-POW kind of mad."

But Lucia has a trick up her sleeve. Or, better still, an abuela on her side. Abu explains how, when she was younger, she was a luchadora. She fought in a ring with a mask over her face and a cape blowing behind her, mighty as can be. Outside the ring, she fought the good fight and helped others in need. She passes her mask on to Lucia. With the mask and cape, Lucia is transformed into Lucia the Luchadora. She's unstoppable! She inspires a bunch of other children to don masks and capes and come out to play just as hard as she does.

All is fine until one comes child out in a pink and white mask and cape. She is clearly a girl. The same boys taunt her, returning to their "sugar and spice" phrase. But Lucia comes to her rescue, pulling off her mask, letting her long hair escape.

See? Girls can be powerful players and kind-hearted souls--in one WOW moment.

I love this story of girl power and the illustrations are aaaaaa-mazing. But this book is special to me because I saw it when it was barely more than an idea. When it was a typed-up, double-spaced manuscript handed from one hopeful writer to another. The author, Cynthia Leonor Garza, and I were part of a critique group who met at a coffee shop in Fairfax, Virginia. We'd meet to exchange manuscripts, offer advice, point out problems, suggest improvements, and chat about squeezing in writing time while our children watched movies, played outside, slept.

Lucia is Cynthia's second manuscript (my fingers are still crossed that her piñata story is published soon!) at our critique group, and I can't tell you how fun it is to read the final version, complete with gorgeous, vibrant illustrations by Alyssa Bermudez.

And now LOOK at this! She's got her debut picture book accepted, produced, and published. Congratulations, Cynthia, and keep fighting the good fight, Lucia!

The Little Hummingbird, by Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas

The Little Hummingbird, by Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas
Greystone Books

Rating: 5 stars

After not writing all summer long while moving my family from the East Coast to the West, I feel some pressure to come back with a BANG, to write about the newest and latest and most popular book that's now sitting on the shelves of the coolest people ever (but somehow you've still not heard about).

But...this book I came across last week is just too special, even though it's six years old. This is a beautiful retelling of a South American tale--both the simple story and the woodcut illustrations are beautiful...and the lesson at the end is one I try very hard to practice and teach my children.

Here's the story:

There is a fire, a big fire, in the forest. All the animals run away. They remain huddled at the edge of the forest, afraid and helpless. These animals look up to see little Hummingbird flying as fast as she can to the stream. There, she picks up a drop of water in her beak and flies as fast as she can back to the fire. She drops the water on the fire.

She does this again and again and again. Flies to the water, picks up one drop, flies to the fire, deposits the drop. Again and again and again.

The animals finally stop Hummingbird. Big Bear asks, "Little Hummingbird, what are you doing?"

Hummingbird stops and says, simply, "I'm doing everything I can."

See this beautiful story as a YouTube video:

The big message of this simple is the sort that stops you in your tracks. What if all of us just did all that we could to fight a particular problem? The results would be nothing short of revolutionary.

So as my kids went to school this morning to their new school with new classmates and new teachers and new cubbies and new everything else, it was with that message. I sure hope that school receives them with open arms, doing all that they can to welcome my trio into their warm environment.

Growing Up Pedro by Matt Tavares

Growing Up Pedro by Matt Tavares
Rating: 5 stars

Candlewick

I'm so happy it's baseball season again. I'm thrilled to spend many afternoons throwing the ball around with now both of my sons, and sometimes pitching to them in our backyard. I love watching Ben practice, and I love watching the games.

I've said it before here, but one of the things I love so much about baseball is that there are so many wholesome, heroic, hard-working, and dedicated ballplayers. Many of these great men lived and played in the past--but their memories live on through their stats and their lore, so their lessons are still accessible and easy to discuss with my sons. But how great to find a man from the present whose life and character are worth knowing and emulating.

The talented Matt Tavares shows and tells us of how Pedro Martinez grew up in the Dominican Republic. He followed in his big brother Ramon's footsteps as he played baseball, practiced pitching by aiming at mangoes in trees, and dreamed big. Ramon made it to the minor leagues, then the major leagues, and soon Pedro, despite his small size, got a chance. He pitched his way through the Dodgers' minor league system and finally played alongside Ramon. The two boys were ecstatic--it's a big dream come true!

Then what always happens happened: Pedro got traded to the Montreal Expos, but Ramon's advice to the upset Pedro turned out to be true. Ramon explained how the Dodgers would never make Pedro their starting pitcher, but the Expos will. The Expos do, and Pedro started to make headlines as a great pitcher, possibly even better than his brother.

The two brothers continue to play and excel and win awards--Pedro even more so than Ramon--until they finally play together again, this time on the Red Sox, and this time with Pedro as the star pitcher with heaps of talent and grit. The two return to the Dominican Republic often, where they've paid for a fantastic gathering space for their whole family in the spot on which they first learned to play the game.

I know this post is long enough, but the best part of the book for me is the brotherhood part. I know Kiefer keeps choosing this book because of the story of two brothers, making it to the big leagues together--and the little brother comes out on top. But I hope he's listening to the fact that the brothers don't care who is a bigger star. They love each other fiercely still now. When the boys were young, Ramon always looked out for him, and Pedro was smart enough to recognize this and humble enough to keep working hard. The brotherhood bond is awesome and strange right now for my boys--they can't stand being apart even when they can't figure out how to get along at that minute--but it's so important that they figure it out and trust in and believe in and root for each other...

I hope my boys continue to play baseball and be good team players and role models, but I hope even more they continue to be good brothers to each other.

Matt Tavares has several other great baseball (and non-baseball) picture books. Click HERE for a list of titles.

Hector and Hummingbird by Nicholas John Frith

Hector and Hummingbird by Nicholas John Frith
Rating: 4 stars

Arthur A. Levine Books

"Deep in the mountains of Peru lived a bear called Hector and a hummingbird called Hummingbird," this book begins. "They were the best of friends. Mostly."

Bear and Hummingbird were grand pals but they were total opposites in one main way: Bear was an animal of few words and appreciated the sanctity and peace in silence. Hummingbird was a total chatterbox, and he had a tendency to copy whatever Bear is doing.

If Bear ate a custard apple, Hummingbird realized what a great idea that was, and talked all about which custard apple he was going to eat. If Hector scratched his back on a tree, Baloo-style, Hummingbird sang the praises of a good idea and scratched the feathers on his back while chirping how great it felt. If Hector decided to take a little nap, Hummingbird lay down next to him and chatted about how great it'd be if they napped together.

But suddenly, Bear has had ENOUGH.

"ARRGH!! Leave me ALONE!" he bellowed. And stomped off into the jungle to get some peace and quiet.

Hummingbird drooped, and he decided he should not follow Bear. Mostly.

Of course he does, and of course we adult readers can predict the ending: Bear was at first elated to be on his own, but the feeling got stranger and stranger, and the quiet got louder and louder and he realized he really missed Hummingbird. He admitted this to himself, out loud, and out pops Hummingbird, thrilled to be wanted again.

This is a great story with a big old lesson for big readers and little listeners alike: The very quirks that drive you batty in those you love are the ones you'd miss the most. So love the quirks in the friend, too. Mostly.

I Lived on Butterfly Hill by Marjorie Agosín

I Lived on Butterfly Hill by Marjorie Agosín, translated by E.M. O'Connor
Atheneum Books for Young Readers

Rating: 5 stars

Some years ago I was part of a writing group which encouraged us writer-participants to share what we've read. A woman a few decades older than me read a piece based on her childhood in Chile. She wrote about the hills and the sights of the sea, how her father came home from abroad and brought a woman's shawl for a woman other than her mother. There was something captivating about her story, and after she read, she explained how she and her family (had her mother forgiven her father and they left together? I've forgotten...) fled Chile during the violent Pinochet years.

I think it was this woman's story that made I Lived on Butterfly Hill to call out to me from the library shelves. I just had to read it, and I'm so glad I finally did.

The story is about and narrated by Celeste Marconi, a young girl growing up in Valparaiso, Chile, during a time of significant political turmoil. During the first few chapters, as Agosín drops hints to describe how deeply entrenched Celeste and her family are in Valparaiso, Celeste notices large ships coming into the harbor. She hears the grown-ups whisper; with the help of a wonderful dose of magical realism that is sprinkled throughout this novel, Celeste senses that some sort of darkness about will occur. Finally, it happens: the socialist President is killed, and a dictator takes over the country.

(In the book, it is fictional President Alarcon who is killed by an unnamed sunglass-wearing dictator, not real-life Allende and Pinochet.)

Celeste struggles to understand what is going on during the first week of the new dictatorship as books are burned and new rules are imposed. Many of Celeste's classmates and neighbors are "disappeared." Her parents, both doctors who work at free clinics for the poor and publicly supported Alarcon, go into hiding. Her grandmother watches over her, then decides to send Celeste to her aunt in Maine. Traveling alone and in exile from everything she's ever known to this faraway place, Celeste makes the best of it and trusts herself and has faith in her homeland while still opening herself to another way of life, and another group of people to love.

This is an excellent, excellent book. It's a long one for middle grade readers--over 400 pages--but Agosín quickly wrapped me in an emotional story about characters about which I cared deeply, and I couldn't put it down. I loved how Celeste matured into a patriot, more certain of the future of Chile than the grown-ups who were affected and still shaky from the political turmoil. 

I loved the insights young readers could get from this book: what a difference a political leader could make, what it's like being a non-native English speaker in an American school, how it isn't only Nazi Germany that has stories of escape and heroism and defiance, how many rights we Americans have that are taken for granted, the importance of literacy for a country. This book is rich with such lessons--I highly recommend it, especially if read and discussed with your child (or students).

Ballerina Dreams by Michaela DePrince

Ballerina Dreams: From Orphan to Dancer by Michaela DePrince
Random House Children's Books

Rating: 5 stars

Here's a review I did a little while ago for Washington FAMILY Magazine about the true story of one talented, amazing, determined young woman:

I dare you to read this book and not get goosebumps up and down your arm. Michaela DePrince’s rags-to-riches tale is almost unbelievable, from its tragic beginnings to fairytale ending. And it’s all true.

This book is a Step Into Reading book, rated Level 4, geared towards 7 to 9 year-olds. I say this first because DePrince’s story has some difficult facts for young kids to absorb, and the questions kids will likely ask have some sobering answers. Despite the image of the graceful ballerina on the cover, know that this is not your typical ballerina children’s book.

In this easy reader, DePrince glosses over the death of her parents in an age-appropriate way. “My parents died [in Sierra Leone] in an ongoing war.” That sentence will satisfy some readers; others will want to know more. The whole truth is that DePrince was born in Sierra Leone in 1995, during the civil war. Her father was shot by rebels. Her mother starved to death. She was sent to an orphanage with other children with similar stories.

In addition to this tragic beginning, DePrince suffered from vitiligo, a skin disease that made white spots appear on her brown skin. Kids at the orphanage teased her. DePrince worried she would not be adopted because of her imperfections.

While at the orphanage, DePrince saw a ballet magazine and was carried away with the image. When she was adopted (by Elaine DePrince, whose story is equally heartbreaking and inspirational, but not told in this story), she kept the image with her. Her adoptive mother saw it and promised that in America, she could dance ballet.

This is where the story takes a welcome positive turn. DePrince is not the only child adopted by Elaine DePrince. Her best friend is also chosen, and the two friends become sisters in America. They both start dancing, though it is Michaela who excels and advances. Because there are so few African American ballerinas and because she is a superior dancer, she is asked to dance for a documentary about ballet. At her mother’s urging, she says yes. “First Position” was a huge success, and DePrince’s fame grew.

DePrince’s story is incredible—I was so glad that such good things came from such horrible beginnings for this young lady. In case you or your child are curious to learn more, you should know that Ballerina Dreams was written after DePrince wrote and published Taking Flight: From War Orphan to Star Ballerina (2014, Alfred A. Knopf). This is her memoir targeted for young adult audience and goes into more detail about all parts of her story.

I was also glad to discuss this book after my second grade daughter read it. She had a lot of questions about DePrince’s beginnings, and the conversation about war and parents dying wasn’t an easy one. But I think therein lies the beauty of books with difficult subject matter: they provide the opportunity to talk about tragic and sad realities in a safe place, in an appropriate manner, and with a loved one.

Review originally posted HERE.

Hope Springs by Eric Walters

Hope Springs by Eric Walters, illustrated by Eugenie Fernandes
Tundra

Rating: 4.5 stars

The Mbooni District in Kenya is a village far away from our Washington, D.C., suburbs. Hope Springs takes place in that distant, dusty village. It's a story about how people confront the reality of scarce resources, specifically, what does a community do when there is limited water during a drought?

In the story, three children trot off down the hill to a small spring which serves as the lone source of water in the village. Empty water containers bounce along with them. Boniface, Mueni and Charles place their water containers in a long line of containers and begin to play while they wait for their turn at the spring.

A group of angry women comes over to them and interrupts their play. The women shout at them, accusing them of stealing water that is not rightfully theirs. The children might live in the village now, because they reside at the orphanage, but because their families are not from this village, the women believe they should not get any water. They kick the kids’ containers out of line and tell them to leave. Frightened and intimidated, the children run off.

Back up the hill in the orphanage, Boniface, the oldest boy and main character, discusses the specific incident and circumstances of the drought with the houseparents. The houseparents explain that the women acted out of fear more than aggression. The women are afraid there will be no water—and therefore no life—for their own families, their own children. The orphanage is digging their own well, the houseparents explain to Boniface; soon, they will have enough water and no need to visit the overcrowded spring.

And, despite the uncertainty of what one finds under our feet, the orphanage soon has a well and does not need to go to the community water hole. Instead of celebrating, Boniface is bothered by the fact that the orphanage has more water than the rest of the community. Despite the fact that the women from the village were so mean to him, he believes the orphanage should help them and their families.

The houseparents, moved by Boniface’s generosity and kindness, agree—and they insist on letting Boniface himself lead the discussion with the villagers. Boniface gulps down his own fear and finds the right words. Soon, with hard work and teamwork, the villagers turn the little spring into a deep well. Because of the kindness of one boy named Boniface, there was water, and, therefore, life—for everyone. And there still is.

This is a story based on a real event. This fact floored my children, who have recently lived through water issues in our own home and, because of that, can appreciate the fear of living without water and the need for a new well. The characters are based on real children and photographs of them are in the afterward. My second grader was in awe, and I, a former Peace Corps Volunteer, wonder how this story might creep into her clever brain and big heart and inspire her.

If you want to shrink the world, open up a book. If you want your child to visit a world far away from his or her own, or begin to understand that some children’s days are very different, get a book like Hope Springs into your childrens’ hands. You never know what might happen.

This book was originally reviewed for Washington FAMILY Magazine. To see the original review, please click HERE.

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.

Last Stop on Market Street by Matt De La Peña

Last Stop on Market Street by Matt De La Peña, illustrated by Christian Robinson
G.P. Putnam's Sons

Rating: 5 stars

Just a few minutes ago I was driving along and had to stop because two big ol' white geese were crossing the road. I stopped and watched them waddle past slowly, not caring how long it took them to get to the other side of the road. These two geese serve as some sort of proof that my kids don't know what it's like to grow up in a city, have a bus be their main (and perhaps only) form of transportation, or experience walking through a constant flow of humanity. The city life is just not my kids' experience.

But I want them to know that there are other experiences out there. I want them to step in other kids' shoes and see what other types of lives are like.

Thanks to Matt De La Peña's latest (and perhaps greatest) book Last Stop on Market Street, my kids can do just that. They can see what city life is like, and what a thoughtful, others-before-me day is like--all in one book.

A young boy named C.J. walks out onto the street, free from an hour of church, yet not yet totally free--this boy is not done with his Sunday routine. C.J. and his grandmother board a bus--Mr. Dennis' bus.  We're not sure where they're going just yet, but the ride gets off to a good start when Mr. Dennis pulls a coin from behind C.J.'s ear.

A scene you don't see often in picture books...

As all kids do, C.J. complains a bit about having to go on this errand when his friends are off playing. But, his grandmother reminds him, his friends "won't know the people he knows. And I'm sorry about that." As he looks around the bus, he sees a great sampling of our great, diverse nation. C.J. sees a tattooed man (he gets no mention, but I like that he exists, in this picture book, with all his tattoos). He talks with a blind man, who says you don't have to have eyes to see.

When C.J. envies two teenagers' iPod, his grandmother points out he's got the real, live version in a guitar-holding passenger across the aisle. She suggests he request a song, and the musician strikes up a diddy just for C.J. The performance earns the coin Mr. Dennis pulled from his ear.

Finally, they arrive to the last stop on Market Street: a soup kitchen.

"Why's it always so dirty here?" C.J. asks.

"Sometimes, when you're surrounded by dirt, C.J., you're a better witness for what is beautiful," his grandmother wisely and patiently replies.

The two greet the men and women at the soup kitchen and take their places to serve them.

I'd like my kids to walk in C.J.'s shoes in more ways than one. As a former volunteer with the Missionaries of Charity and the Peace Corps, I look forward to the days when my kids will take their places to serve others.

The New Small Person by Lauren Child

The New Small Person by Lauren Child
Candlewick Press

Rating: 5 stars

Warning!! After reading this book, your kid is going to request some jelly beans be put in his lunch. But it's okay, you'll have them. Leftover from his Christmas morning stocking (despite the fact that its' March). And you'll stingily give him a dozen. And he will be excited about those twelve colorful bursts of sweetness.

Lauren Child, author of many children's books (most noticeably the Charlie and Lola series), has given the picture book world another gem for its shelves with The New Small Person. Older siblings the world over--especially those with a big gap before a little sibling is born--will relate to big brother Elmore Green and his unhappiness, unease, yet eventual acceptance of his little brother.

"Elmore Green started off life as an only child." He has it all figured out. He has his own room in which he can display anything and everything on the floor. He can arrange his jelly bean collection however he likes, and eat them one at a time. In any order Elmore Green prefers. His parents adore him! Everyone fawns over him!

One awful day, the small person moved its bed
into Elmore Green's room.

And then (dum...dum...DUM) the new person arrived.

The little new person quickly becomes the center of attention, the star sibling, the most adored one. The little new person has opinions that actually matter, and Elmore Green must, for the first time, consider someone else's preferences. The little person moves into Elmore Green's room, demands the channel be changed on TV, and licks every single one of Elmore Green's jelly beans!

When the little person gets bigger, it's clear that he just wants to do what his big brother is doing. He wants to be like him, sure, but he wants to be with him even more.

Elmore Green commits to avoiding him until one night when Elmore Green has a really bad dream. The little person trots over to his bed and shouts, "Go away, Scary!" and cuddles with his big brother until both feel better. He sees that it is nice to have someone else around--in both the day and the night.

Elmore Green realizes: Life is best when shared, even though sharing life is sometimes challenging. Especially when sharing jelly beans is involved.

(Will parental readers see themselves in this book? I know I did.)

Gazpacho for Nacho by Tracey Kyle

Gazpacho for Nacho by Tracey Kyle, illustrated by Carolina Farías
Two Lions

Rating: 4 stars

Nacho is going through a phase. A picky phase. He refuses--albeit politely, without a single "YUCK" or "NO WAY"--to eat anything but gazpacho. His mami is the real hero of the story, I think. She takes the time and energy to cheerfully and continually introduce a healthy variety of foodstuffs to her child's stomach. But Nacho just wants gazpacho.

The heroic, endlessly patient Mami finally tries a different path to variety. She still has a smile on as she walks Nacho to the grocery store to teach Nacho how to cook his beloved gazpacho. Together, they shop for the ingredients, return home, and cook. At the end of the book, Nacho realizes how fun it is to cook and asks his mother to call him "Chef Nacho" from now on. And not only will he start to try new things, he'll make them himself!

Lastly, she drizzled a very small drop
of oil and vinegar over the top.
She blended the soup in a big batidora
and left it to chill in the fridge for one hora.

Kyle mixes a whole lot of Spanish into this book, and I'm impressed with her ability to rhyme not with just one language but two. The fact that my kids have little knowledge of Spanish left them asking "What does that mean?" at every other line. However, by the third or fourth read, their questions slowed and they knew more words. It was worth stumbling those first few times.

The illustrations by Carolina Farías are warm and inviting. All of the images of a mother and her son are really sweet--I sound like a gripey, tired mom (hmmm...am I one?) when I say that it's mighty handy that Nacho is an only child. Or maybe his siblings are on an extended playdate so that Mami and Nacho can have this uninterrupted time together? Regardless, for me the illustrations remind me how sweet the time with just one child can be, and to savor that time when it happens on the pages of my own life.

As a mom who loves to cook and read with kids, this book really touched my heart. If only my kids liked soup (and it wasn't below freezing outside--an unbelievable eleven degrees as I type this!), I'd make the recipe for gazpacho in the end of the book!

Little Melba and Her Big Trombone by Katheryn Russell-Brown

Little Melba and Her Big Trombone by Katheryn Russell-Brown, illustrated by Frank Morrison

Lee & Low Books

Rating: 5 stars

Author Katheryn Russell-Brown starts out with a big promise in this nonfiction picture book: "Spread the word! Melba Doretta Liston was something special!"

She is definitely right. Little Melba definitely was something special.

Melba loved music, lived for music, breathed music--even when she was asleep and dreaming. She watched her aunties dance, she cupped her ear to the Majestic, she daydreamed of notes and chords. She signed up for a music class at seven, but that wasn't enough. When she stepped into her first music store, she saw a long, funny-looking horn. A trombone. She didn't really know what it was or how to play it--she just thought it looked cool. It was enormous for the small girl, but she insisted. Her mother couldn't say no. So, Melba got her first trombone. And Melba started playing.

She tried to push out the slide, but her arm was too short.
She had to tilt her head sideways and stretch out her right arm.

She needed help playing it at first; Grandpa John had to help her hold it. Before long, though, she taught herself to play and was strong enough to hold the trombone and play it on her own. She was only eight when the local radio station invited her to play a solo on air. (How cool is that?!)

Hard times hit her family in 1937 and Melba and her mother moved from Kansas City to Los Angelos. She found a talented band of kids to join, but jealousy ran in some of the kids' veins and they said rude things. Yet Melba still played.

When she was seventeen, she was invited to tour the country with a new band led by trumpet player Gerald Wilson. She visited cities all over and received rave reviews. She was the only female in the band, and some of the men were often rude to her, pretending as if she wasn't there. She visited towns unfriendly to "people with dark skin" and Melba sometimes had to sleep on her tour bus. Yet Melba still played.

Finally, the world knew of her greatness--her "something special"--and she toured the world and dazzled audiences by herself.

The illustrations by Frank Morrison are really my favorite part of this book. They are gorgeous and convey such a sense of movement and richness...I'm not sure how he does it but he really did Melba a huge service by illustrating her with such charisma and cool.

It was fun to walk in Melba's shoes for a little while as my kids and I read this book together. I found some clips on youtube to play for my kids as they ate their breakfast on a dark winter morning before school. None of us could imagine making an instrument sing so well at such a young age--or any age, for that matter. "Wow," was just about all we could say as we listened quietly and respectfully to one woman who definitely was something special.

A Boy and a Jaguar by Alan Rabinowitz

A Boy and a Jaguar by Alan Rabinowitz, illustrated by Cátia Chien

Rating: 5 stars

Once upon a time, a little boy about four years old walked with his father to the Bronx Zoo. This boy stood in front of the cage of a giant, wild jaguar. The jaguar paced before the boy, seeming frustrated at his confined situation.

The boy understood how the jaguar felt. He was a stutterer; thoughts were confined to his head, unable to get out. Usually when he tried to "use his words" he grew red in the face and his body convulsed with the his inability to transform his thoughts into coherent sounds and launch them successfully into the conversation.

But today, in front of this great cat, he whispered without a single stutter, "One day, if I figure out how to speak, I will speak for you, too." There was something magical between them. With this wild creature, he could speak.

On the days between visits to that jaguar in the Bronx Zoo, the little boy endured harsh sentences--he heard grown-ups tell him he was broken, and he was sent to a school for disturbed children. Like that jaguar, he felt caged and misunderstood.

"If I try to push words out, my head and body shake uncontrollably."

Years went by and this little boy grew up and went to college in an experimental program that embraced his debilitating stutter, and grown ups encouraged him to be a "fluent stutterer." He worked hard to finally speak without stuttering. He found his voice.

But he still feels broken on the inside, still feels damaged and different and unsure how to use that voice. He studies black bears in the Great Smoky Mountains, then travels to Belize to study jaguars. He starts to feel connected to his voice, and he wants to use it to fulfill the promise he made to that one jaguar on that one day so long ago.

He begins to follow and capture jaguars for study before releasing them. He successfully argues for the world's first and only jaguar wildlife preserve. He becomes Dr. Alan Rabinowitz: a zoologist, a conservationist, a passionate advocate for the 36 big cat species of the world, what Time calls the "Indiana Jones of Wildlife Conservation." And today, he says he is grateful for his stuttering, because that disability led him to what he is most passionate about: jaguars.

This is an incredibly moving true story about working hard, keeping promises, finding your passion, and making the world a better place.

P.S. The illustrations by Cátia Chien are phenomenal, too!

Brush of the Gods by Lenore Look

Brush of the Gods by Lenore Look, illustrated by Meilo So

Rating: 5 stars

Ben chose this book as his bedtime book a few nights ago, when we were on a quick weekend trip to the beach. He and Kiefer were sharing a room in our rental place. On twin beds, lying side by side, my boys lay side by side, listening to Lenore Look's absorbing story and looking at Meilo So's amazing artwork. Kiefer was asleep by the end of it, but Ben was spellbound throughout and even let out a quiet "woah" at the ending.

The book tells the legend of Wu Daozi, an Chinese artist that lived in the eighth century. The story begins in his calligraphy class when he was a young boy.  He tries to get the strokes right, but his brush seems to have a mind of its own.  The monk-teacher chides him for not paying attention, not trying hard enough, not making his brush do his brain's bidding. Yet Wu Daozi learned in that classroom that he possessed a gift: the gift of art.

Leaving calligraphy behind, he painted on walls everywhere--at temples, teahouses, and the silk bazaar.  (I guess graffiti laws were different back then?) The scenes were extraordinary, and people stopped to appreciate his artwork and skill. One day, he paints a butterfly that is so life-like that it flutters off the wall, into the air. Daozi is shocked, and is certain that he imagined what just happened.  He paints another butterfly, and it, too, flies away.  Suddenly, all around the city, his incredibly realistic paintings start to disappear.  The horses gallop off, the birds fly away, the men march down the road...

Yet the Emperor commissions Daozi to do the biggest mural of his career (hoping that it won't fly away).  Daozi toils on it for years and years, growing older and older as he paints and paints.  At the unveiling, the painting doesn't disappear.  It remains.  But Daozi...old Daozi walks right into the painting and is never seen again!

Magical for sure.  In just the right way.

Goldy Luck and the Three Pandas by Natasha Yim

Goldy Luck and the Three Pandas by Natasha Yim, illustrated by Grace Zong

Rating: 4 stars

At the rate we're going, we're going to have to keep renewing this book until the Chinese New Year! (It is late September as I type this...)  Kiefer will not let me return it--he's pulled it out of the library bag twice already.

It's definitely worth telling you about, and since it's been sitting around our house, I've been reading it almost once a day for the past few weeks.

Natasha Yim wrote a great Chinese twist of Goldylocks and the Three Bears. On Chinese New Year, Goldy Luck's mom asks her to bring a plate of turnip cakes to her next door neighbors. Once there, she tastes the family's congee rice porridge, determines the one in the plastic bowl is just right and gobbles it all up. She feels sleepy so tests the three chairs available, favoring the fun rocking chair--she ends up rocking it to pieces. Oops! She still feels sleepy and wanders to the bedrooms, selecting the third bed, a little futon, and falling fast asleep.

The (panda) bear family come home to this mess and finds the messy intruder fast asleep...until she is startled awake by their presence and runs back home immediately, embarrassed by her behavior. She thinks of her neighbors all day, and returns--with a fresh bowl of congee--to help clean up and celebrate the new year together.

There are lots of lessons to draw from this book, or you can simply enjoy the nice version of a classic story with wonderful illustrations by Grace Zong. Better yet, make the turnip cakes from the recipe in the back of the book and bring one by my house, please!

Grandfather Gandhi by Arun Gandhi and Bethany Hegedus

Grandfather Gandhi by Arun Gandhi and Bethany Hegedus

Rating: 5 stars

Arun and his family arrive at Sevagram, his grandfather Gandhi's service village, and go straight to Gandhi's hut. They touch his feet to show respect; he hugs them tightly in return. Gandhi is impressed that the boy had walked the entire way from the train station. "That walk is a test of character. I am impressed." The boy's heart swells.

And so begins Arun's time at Sevagram, a time of simple beds and early mornings, guided meditations and chores, and of wondering if he could live up to the Gandhi name. Wherever the boy came from, it was quite different from where he is now, and the new places frustrates him to no end.  Here, in this place where he is supposed to be still and peaceful, Arun feels fidgety and annoyed all day long. Finally, he gets into a shouting match during a soccer game, and feels singled out for his quickness to anger.

He goes to seek counsel from his grandfather.  Gandhi is busy doing more important things, but he wonderfully shoos away his colleagues and puts away his papers in order to make time and space for his grandson.

"We all feel anger."
"Even you?" I asked.
"Even me," said Grandfather.

"Tell me what has you so upset," he says.  The boy's story spills out, and the fear of never being at peace or living up to the great Gandhi name hangs in the air. Gandhi assures the child that everyone feels anger--even the great Gandhi himself.

Anger is like electricity, Gandhi explains. It can strike like lightening and split a living tree in two. Or it can be channeled and transformative, and it can shed light like a lamp. In this way, anger can illuminate. It can turn darkness into light. We can work to use our anger, instead of letting it use us. The choice lies in each of us: lightning or lamp.

--

There is so much goodness in this book.  The ability to talk about anger, and how it is a natural feeling, present in all of us, is the best part of the book, but there are others. Namely, how he wonders if he'll ever live up to his family's name, how Gandhi makes time for him, and the introduction of a great man like Gandhi.

I did my best to live my life as light.

But the anger part is so important.  Back when I was obsessed with Gandhi in college, I was attracted to his stoicism.  I wished I had what I thought to be his ability to push down all his feelings and feel at peace.  I think because I was young and still very naive and hadn't yet felt a full range of emotions that I thought this was possible. Now, at an older and, yes, wiser period of my life, I realize that pushing emotions down deep and putting on a certain, expected face is a skill to be cast away, not idolized.  Transforming those very human and very deep emotions is trickier and healthier and what I now aim to do. Living with feelings and using my emotions are things I'm actively figuring out how to do, and how to teach my kids.

I could go on and on. But I won't. The book is wonderful, a great read though not an incredibly fun one. How great to read this with your child (or class), then be able to remind yourself (and for your child to remind you) of the choice we all have when we feel anger: lightening or lamp. The book's simple message has the potential to live in my children and your children for decades. And that is a hallmark of a truly wonderful book. A small critique: I wish it were slightly more accessible for kids.  The illustrations, while beautiful and artsy and Caldecott-worthy, are like poetry--gorgeous but difficult to understand, and they could be a turn off for some kids.

Do read the book for yourself--this might be a picture book your child never reads, or doesn't love.  But you should read it. So check it out for you this time around.

A Dance Like Starlight by Kristy Dempsey

A Dance Like Starlight by Kristy Dempsey, illustrated by Floyd Cooper

Rating: 5 stars

I'll get right to the moral of this story: Dreams do come true.

Don't you just love it already?

Meet one little girl--a little black girl--growing up in the 1960s who wants, more than anything, to be a ballerina.  Her mother works at the ballet school; she cleans and sews costumes there. She is heartbreakingly close to where she wants to be, but is not allowed in. (Do they not have the money? Or is it because black students are not allowed? Dempsey never says, though I infer the latter.) This little girl tries on the costumes, and twirls around and around, practicing moves she's seen but not been taught in the fanciest of all fancy costumes. She wishes on stars and cradles hope for her dream to come true.

"Brava, ma petit," he told me.

One day, while waiting in the wings with her mother during a show, this little girl dances the entire dance, having memorized it from the wings.  The Ballet Master sees her, watches her. When she finishes, he cups her face with his wise, white hands and says, "Brava, ma petite. Brava."

Her hope grows a little.  In Dempsey's words, "That's when hope picked my dream up from the floor of my heart, and it started growing."

The Ballet Master made an arrangement for this little girl to dance in the back of the class each day, one black girl behind many white girls.  But all have the same dream: to become a prima ballerina.

Then one day, her mother tells her that it has happened. The first African American has become a prima ballerina at the Metropolitan Opera House! Her mother scrapes up the money for the two of them to go, to watch Miss Janet Collins on opening night.

It's like she's dancing for me, showing me who I can be.

This one little girl in the audience stands to applaud and yell "Brava!" at the top of her lungs and her hope soars just like Miss Janet Collins soars across the stage.

This is a beautiful book in many ways.  I love the simple story of a little girl dream that might become true, and I love how she works hard for her dream, and doesn't give up on herself. I love how her hope grows and grows and grows throughout the story.

If there is a little dancer in your family, I hope this book finds its way to a shelf near her (or him!).

Satch & Me (A Baseball Card Adventure) by Dan Gutman

Satch & Me (A Baseball Card Adventure) by Dan Gutman

Rating: 4.5 stars

Ben is a sports nut.  This is not news for those who know him.  He knows right where the nonfiction sports section is in the library, and he spends most of his library time there, in his happy place.  He happily checks out the same books on baseball, soccer, football, and rugby again and again and again.

In the juvenile fiction section, he goes right to the CHR section, where he chooses a few Matt Christopher books to "read" by himself.  (We've read one together, The Lucky Bat.  Read that review here.)  But when I came across this Baseball Card Adventure series, I couldn't help but share it with him.  He quickly chose one to read together with me at night; I was thrilled he chose Satch & Me.  After reading Something to Prove: The Great Satchel Paige vs the Rookie Joe DiMaggio I wanted to know more about Satch.

The Baseball Card Adventure books all have the same premise: Joe Stoshack, or "Stosh," can travel through time by holding baseball cards from the year to which he wants to travel. In each book, Stosh has a unique reason to want to travel to meet that particular ball player.  In Satch's case, he and his Little League coach want to track the speed of Satch's famous pitch: Just how fast can this guy throw?

Though Scholastic suggests this book for kids in grades three through five, I thought it was completely appropriate for Ben, who enters kindergarten in a little over a month.  There were many things I loved about the book:

• The story started strong at the first page, and Ben was hooked quickly.  He learned the word "cliffhanger" because many of the chapters really did leaving him begging for me to read just one more chapter…that's always a good sign!
• Stosh tells the story in the first person.  He's a normal kid and a likable character as he makes mistakes and weighs decisions and sometimes gets in a bit of trouble.
• As always, I'm awed and grateful by how much I can teach Ben through baseball.  Stosh goes back in time and witnesses segregation and prejudice and bigotry first-hand, and Gutman doesn't shy away from pointing out injustices through Stosh's eyes.  I never once had to change the wording to explain something. I did, however, stop to explain things and answer Ben's many questions...
• Gutman does an excellent job of having his older characters--in this case, Satch and Flip--instill some wisdom in young Stosh.  And, in some instances, Satch teaches Flip a thing or two (mostly about women "The things you do for women you wouldn't do for anything else.  Same with money").  And Stosh has some advice for readers, too, even though he's still mighty young himself.  My favorite line of his: "Sometimes you just have to take a chance and hope you made the smart decision."
• Satchel Paige was an interesting character both in the book and in real life--and an important one.  In the back of the book, Gutman spends a few pages spreading the facts out for the reader.  Paige was the first player from the Negro League to be inducted in the Baseball Hall of Fame, and most players who played with him believe him to be the best pitcher in the history of baseball.
• I loved sharing Ben's passion a little every night.  I hear about it all day, yes, but learning about one of the great ball players with him was my kind of fun, and after a phone call with my ball playing grandfather, Ben and I were equally floored to hear that Grandpa played against Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson (another player who pops up in the book).  Neither of us can wait to get the rest of the story from Grandpa!

Things you might want to know before reading this with your child:

• Stosh's parents are divorced.  This fact surfaces a little in each book that we've read (we're reading Jackie & Me now).  They have a good co-parenting relationship, but are not overly chummy.
• In this book, Stosh takes his 70-something, single Little League coach, Flip, back in time with him, and Flip meets a girl and they fall in love. She runs away from her father to catch up with Flip and Stosh, and Stosh considers leaving Flip in the past so he can be with her.  This little romance is appropriate for older kids, but I edited out a few sentences for Ben. (I couldn't do this with Lorelei, who corrects me when I'm reading!

Yesterday I took the kids to the bookstore and let them choose two books or games (or, in Kiefer's case, a mean-looking Lego policeman alarm clock…something that this smiley child who wakes up around 5:30 most mornings definitely does NOT need…).  Ben went right to the "G" area of "Middle Grade Fiction" to see which books from the Baseball Card Adventure series were there.  Only one: Babe & Me.  "That's the one I wanted!" Ben exclaimed with Willy-Wonka gold ticket excitement.

So, looks like I'll soon be reporting back about Babe, too…!