Day 202: Grandpa Green

We've gotten this gorgeous story out of the library several times now, and each time, I've vowed that I'm going to go home and blog about it.  Grandpa Green is an absolutely beautiful book, brought to life by some of the loveliest, most creative illustrations I've ever seen. 

In this heartfelt, poignant story, a young boy recounts the life of his great-grandfather, a remarkable man whose experiences and memories have been magically preserved in his garden.  As we wander among Grandpa Green's topiary trees, we learn of his childhood on a farm, time as a soldier in a world war, how he met his wife in a French cafe, and of the family they went on to create together.  Along the way, the great-grandson is seen admiring the memories so beautifully sculpted for him.  If you look closely, you'll also notice that he is gradually collecting gardening tools that have been left behind, as if to reassure us that his great-grandfather's memories and talents will live on long after he is gone.   

Grandpa Green is definitely the type of book that kids and adults of all ages will love for different reasons.  My children love studying the illustrations and quietly observing new details each time we read it, especially given their love of nature.  In many ways, though, I think this book is one that I love and appreciate far more than they do.  There are so many clever little things within the story that might be missed by kids but exhibit exactly why this book is so brilliant, such as the topiary sculpture of an elephant on the page that tells us how the great-grandpa sometimes "forgets things like his favorite floppy straw hat," or the way that the leaves on the tree gradually fade from green to brown when we learn that now Grandpa Green is pretty old.  I feel like we could read this story 100 times and discover something new each time.  

Grandpa Green was a Caldecott Honor Book in 2012, and deservedly so.  The text is brief, but the illustrations add volumes to this touching, whimsical story.  The description on the jacket cover describes this lovely book as exploring "aging, memory, and the bonds of family history and love."  The New York Times Book Review calls it "an unassuming little masterpiece" whose "power lies in its rich, allusive artistry."  I couldn't agree more.  

Day 120: Ox-Cart Man

I've been waiting to write about this book since the day I started this blog.  Now that fall is in full swing and it is October, I just can't wait any more!  The Ox Cart Man has long been one of my absolute favorite picture books.  There are so many things that I love about this story that I hardly know where to begin.  From its very first line, the Ox Cart Man takes us into the life of a family in early nineteenth century New England: "In October he backed his ox into his cart and he and his family filled it up with everything they made or grew all year long that was left over.  He packed a bag of wool he sheared from the sheep in April.  He packed a shawl his wife wove on a loom from yarn spun at the spinning wheel from sheep sheared in April.  He packed five pairs of mittens his daughter knit from yarn spun at the spinning wheel from sheep sheared in April."  And so it goes.  We follow the ox cart man as packs up the things his family has worked so hard to make and grow throughout the year and brings to Portsmouth Market to sell:  birch brooms, woven linen, candles, potatoes, apples, goose feathers, maple sugar.  He proceeds to sell everything he has brought with him, including the wooden box he carried the maple sugar in, the barrel he carried the apples in, the bag he carried the potatoes in, his ox cart... even his beloved ox.  (I'll admit that part makes me a tear up sometimes.  I know.  I'm a sap.)  When he has nothing left but a pocketful of coins, the ox cart man wanders through the market himself, buying new things for his family to get them through the year ahead.  An embroidery needle for his daughter that had come all the way from England on a boat.  A Barlow knife for his son for carving birch brooms.  An iron kettle to hang over the stove.  Two pounds of wintergreen peppermint candies.  And when he finally returns home to family, we see the whole cycle begin once again.  "His daughter took her needle and began stitching, and his son took his Barlow knife and began whittling, and they cooked dinner in their new kettle... and that night the ox-cart man sat in front of his fire stitching new harness for the young ox in the barn..."  

Hall's prose is beautifully written, and I can't help but feel like I am a part of the story while I am reading it.  Each time, I am overwhelmed by a sense of what life was like in those days gone by, and am in awe of its simplicity and difficulty all at the same time.  The gorgeous illustrations, done by the amazingly talented Barbara Cooney, earned this book the Caldecott Medal in 1980, and they are the perfect accompaniment to Hall's story.  Simple, soothing, telling, and beautiful.  At first, I was worried that my son might find this book boring, but he never has.  I think he, too, is fascinated by how our ancestors lived and the ways they depended on nature and the land for their survival.  Seasons change, years pass, and life goes on, but this book will always be one of my favorites.