Quote of the Month

When love and skill work together, expect a miracle. John Ruskin




Showing posts with label Apples-Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Apples-Fiction. Show all posts

Monday, July 1, 2019

A Collective Effort

When a task presents itself to an individual; a mental assessment begins.  A list of essential endeavors is made.  Dependent on the nature of the work, tools might be necessary.  One of the hardest decisions is whether this undertaking can be completed alone or if help is vital to success.  

One of the older folktales with animal characters in which one is seeking assistance from others is The Little Red Hen. She asks multiple times, at various stages in her project, for help, but none is given.  It is only when she is completely done, affirmative replies are offered in response to her final request.  It is too late.  A lively, recent variant on this classic story is The Little Green Hen (Candlewick Press, March 19, 2019) written and illustrated by Alison Murray.  This hen's interest is not in the culinary arts.

Once, on top of a hill,
grew a beautiful, old, and
very fruitful
apple tree.

There was a hollow in the trunk of this tree where a little green hen resided.  She tended this apple tree.  She pruned, practiced pest control and planted.  When the apple seeds she planted turned into saplings, she needed help.  Her single apple tree was now part of an orchard.

For pruning she sought assistance from Peacock.  He said no, but Dog said yes.  Dogs and sticks go together very well.  Fox refused pest control duty, but the smallest of brown sparrows agreed.  There were still plenty of seeds to plant.  A ginger cat who preferred sleeping was not an option.  Squirrel offered his digging and concealing skills.

This foursome worked through three seasons, spring, summer and fall.  They shared in the abundance the orchard provided them.  They happily lived in the hollow of the apple tree trunk.  Then the rains came. It kept on raining.  The Little Green Hen, Dog, the smallest of brown sparrows and Squirrel stayed snug and dry, but Peacock, Fox and Cat were in trouble.  

They were all on Cat's lounging log floating in the flood.  They soon spotted the apple tree with hope in their hearts.  This hen was no ordinary hen.  She had hope in her heart, too.  Some visions for a future are best realized together.


With one word, once, Alison Murray has us gathered around to listen to the tale she will tell.  We know the outcome will be different.  There is an apple tree and the hen is green.  Alison Murray uses the storyteller's three enumerating the hen's tasks of pruning, pest control and planting. 

The first splendid switch comes when the hen asks for help, and a negative reply is countered with a positive response three times.  Alison Murray enhances the story by giving reasons for each character's answers; the peacock is preening, the fox would rather eat the Little Green Hen and the smallest of brown sparrows 

was partial to pesky bugs.

The second switch is the flood, the Little Red Hen's answer to a request for help and the change in attitude of Peacock, Fox and Cat.  It is through the flood and the Little Green Hen's tasks that Alison Murray invites readers to speculate about our environment and to see ourselves as caretakers.  Here is a passage.

"And who will help me sow the apple seeds?"
"Not I," said the fat ginger cat,
who was far too busy lounging
on a log in the sun. 


The vibrant, eye-catching color combinations on the open and matching dust jacket and book case are true attention-grabbers.  The brilliant shades of green and blue with red and spots of pink and orange on the front along with the happy expression on the Little Green Hen's face ask readers to open the case.  The hues on the front continue on the spine blending with the image to the left, on the back.

Here the four friends, the Little Green Hen, Dog, Squirrel and the smallest of brown sparrows are gathered in the hollow of the apple tree trunk.  One pesky pest is with them, too.  They are all looking to the left in surprise.  A sky-blue background is showing on the left and peeking through leaves above the companions.  The color of the apple tree trunk is in shades of purple and brown.

On the opening and closing endpapers Alison Murray has placed a beautiful green and cream pattern which is similar to the whorls seen in tree bark.  On the initial title page, the Little Green Hen has her beak around the stem of a large apple.  The title text is inside the apple.  This is a close-up.  On the more formal title and verso pages green leaves and apple blossoms on the left and the Little Green Hen seated on a branch near a large apple on the right give readers a larger view.

Each image digitally rendered conveys a can-do and uplifting atmosphere.  The placement of the elements, the bold lines and color choices work together to accomplish this wonderfully.  Some of the illustrations span two pages, single pages or are grouped two to a page.  The layout and design are marvelous.  To show the passage of the three seasons, two pages are divided with three vertical panels.

There is never any doubt as to the emotional status of the characters.  This is conveyed mainly through the eyes; a lifting or lowering of eyebrows, closed eyes, wide, happy eyes or worried looks.  This brings readers directly into the narrative.

One of my many, many favorite illustrations is the two pages with the three vertical seasonal panels.  In the first one, on the left, against a pale blue sky is the top of the apple tree at the bottom.  Sitting in the blossoming branches is the sparrow chasing away a pesky pest.  In the center is the tree standing tall and covered in green apples on a lighter green canvas with the Little Green Hen tending to a sapling.  On the right against a pale red background is the apple tree at the top with Dog leaning against the tree and apples in a basket near him.  At the bottom in the top of the apple tree is Squirrel happily reaching for an apple.  Has Squirrel been tossing apples into the basket?


For a folktale or fable theme, for a unit on variants, for attention directed toward stewardship and ecology or for the wonder of a fantastic story, The Little Green Hen written and illustrated by Alison Murray is an excellent choice.  The blend of images and words is exemplary.  Whether read one-on-one or with a group, you will be requested to read it again.  You can pair it with The Little Red Pen in a fractured study.  Alison Murray has also retold other tales; Hare and Tortoise and Dino Duckling.  I highly recommend this title for your personal and professional collections.

To learn more about Alison Murray and her other work, please follow the link attached to her name to access her website.  Alison Murray has accounts on Instagram and Twitter.

Friday, July 3, 2015

Nudges With Nature

For children, and even some adults, it's not enough to see, hear, smell or taste something special.  Every single sense needs to be used to the fullest.  Unless we've been warned of danger, our hands reach out to feel the texture of the newly discovered phenomenon.   Sometimes we are pleasantly surprised by the difference between our anticipation and the reality.

On August 27, 2013 debut children's author illustrator Christie Matheson released Tap The Magic Tree (Greenwillow Books, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers).  In a bright array of colors on crisp white the dust jacket displays secrets about the story.  The book case shows us on the right a tree in spring, leaves finally unfurled.  To the left the tree has those same leaves turned to shades of red, orange and yellow.


Beginning with a single tree, branches bare, we participate in its life cycle during the course of a year.  Readers are invited with rhyming words to tap, turn, rub, touch, jiggle, wiggle, brush away, blow a kiss, shake, knock, pat, blow, clap, wait and see.  We bring on the blossoms, opening, falling and forming fruit.  Ripe red apples grow and drop.  Autumn breezes leave it bare and snow hangs on the limbs before the promises of spring are kept. 

Readers feel as though they are Mother Nature shaping and witnessing the wonder of change.  Like her we create and appreciate. It's simple, it's magical.



Touch The Brightest Star (Greenwillow Books, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, May 26, 2015), a companion to the first title written and illustrated by Christie Matheson, welcomes us to another performance.  We are conductors of the setting of the sun, the arrival of night and its leave-taking at dawn.  While others rest, we tingle with expectancy.  


Magic happens every night. 
First wave good-bye to the sun's bright light.

Do you see it?  It's the first firefly of the night.  Soon others follow, glowing globes drifting on a gentle breeze we blow.  A fawn glides from safety.  We watch and then bid it farewell.

A star, wishes and caressing the sky get us ready for a rare event.  As the dark deepens more stars appear above us.  Carefully we make connections.  A bright star in the north forms a utensil and a guide. 

Where is the moon?  Oh, there it is.  Who's calling whoo?  There's not one but two.  

It's hard to stay awake in the still silence of the night.  Welcoming the night is tiring.  Time to sleep until a new day brightens us with light.


With her opening sentence Christie Matheson speaks a simple truth to her readers.  (I've spent every night for almost fifteen years outside with Xena to know the wisdom of her words.)  She opens the door to possibilities.  Every two sentences end with a rhyming word, not necessarily on the same page.  This is how we are lead through the shifts with impeccable pacing.  She may place an additional single word among these phrases to elevate the importance of a moment.  Here is a sample. 

Gently press the firefly. (right) (page turn)
Oh!
Press again to light up the sky. (left)


Collages were used to prepare the full-color art by Christie Matheson.  On the dust jacket the large star is embossed in silver foil.  The shading in the text replicates the changing of the light from night to day and back again.  On the back to the left are fireflies and stars introducing some of the magic to readers with invitational text.  

The differing book case is an image from the interior of two owls on branches, one over the other, on the left.  A full moon is shining on the right.  Flowers are sprinkled on the ground below the starry sky. A deep blue covers both the opening and closing endpapers.  The title page text mirrors that of the dust jacket, entirely in white. The verso and dedication pages are layers of purple, blue and green sky.

With each page turn Matteson has rendered double-page visuals.  The tree is in all of them acting as an anchor giving perspective to the transformations.  A bluebird flies out but a firefly takes its place. The fawn peeks in from the left seeing the firefly.  As time passes one detail fades and another one grows.  There is delicateness in her simple illustrations evoking the mood of the night.  

One of my favorite pictures is for the phrase

Now let's blow a quiet breeze.

The time of night is just past dusk.  I like to think of it as the moments we hold our breath waiting.  Eight fireflies are moving about as the fawn looks up watching. The sky is a blend of turquoise and royal blue.  We can still see the flowers clearly.  


During quiet time in your classroom, tucked tight with your children before bedtime or as a unit on the changes during the day into night (or the seasons or fruit from her first book), the rhyming words of Christie Matheson in Touch The Brightest Star will sooth your listeners as they reach out to follow her guiding phrases.  Charming night creatures amid the stars and moon supply a peaceful presence.  You will find it hard not to feel the calm.

To learn more about both these books please read the samples below.  Here is a link to a teaching guide for the first title.




Thursday, September 4, 2014

Of Apples And The Art Of Compromise

Due to modern technology and transportation, many grocery stores carry apples every month of the year.  Regardless, there is something ultimately more satisfying about going to nearby orchards and getting the fruit right off the tree. It's somehow crispier, juicier, sweeter or tarter.  Still warm from the making, apple doughnuts are a culinary treat bordering on the divine. It's one of the many perks of autumn in northern Michigan.

Old deserted homesteads, vacant fields, conservancy parks and small farms are dotted with at least one, if not more, apple trees.  You can't drive the country roads without seeing them.  In author illustrator Chris Raschka's new title, Give and Take (A Richard Jackson Book, Atheneum Books For Young Readers), a farmer and his dog discover more than apples on their daily walk.

Every morning a farmer said to his dog, "Let us inspect the apples."

Together they head toward the trees.  Noticing the apples are ripe for the picking, the man fills his basket to the brim.  Imagine his surprise when a wee little guy calling himself Take pops out from the bushes.

He promises the farmer, who already believes his life to be perfectly fine, a finer life.  A stop at a neighboring farm has the farmer replacing his apples with pumpkins; many, many pumpkins.  He is also told to take a hike.  Finally arriving home exhausted, the pumpkins are used to make a concoction neither the farmer nor his dog like.  All he really wants is an apple.

The next morning the apple-loving farmer tells Take to take his leave.  Thankfully, our friendly fellow finds more apples to fill his basket.  A second time he is startled when a wee little guy calling himself Give leaps out of the tree.  With as much zeal as Take he assures the farmer, who already believes his life to be superbly sweet, a sweeter life.

Whispered advice later, the farmer, is again home with absolutely nothing.  Upon waking he tells Give to get out.  A third tree, the greenest, is visited on this day.  Now the farmer and his furry friend depart with a basket of apples, and...two argumentative wee little guys... and a plan. 

Why he has the grumbling gents with him is genius.  Stopping at the mill on the way home yields encouragement freely given and taken in conversation.  A tantalizing twist ends the tale.  


As surely as if he said Once upon a time, Chris Raschka leads readers into his story with the opening sentence, establishing a rhythm.  This storytelling beat continues with each encounter with the wee little guys; a promise, a response, another promise and an unsatisfactory result.  The three visited trees are the best of their kind.  It's even more fun when the outcomes all involve subjects beginning with the letter p. 

Cheerful banter, humorous exclamations and skillful use of repetition keep the reader eagerly turning the pages at the proper pace.  You can almost hear the voices of each of the characters; their personalities evident by the descriptive interactions.  Here is a sample passage.

Just then a tiny little man dropped out of the branches.
"Muttering Mutsus!" said the farmer.
"Who are you?"
"I am Give," said the tiny man.  "If you will listen to me, your life will be sweet."


The bright white on the matching dust jacket and book case as well as interior pages provides the ideal background for Chris Raschka's black ink and watercolor illustrations.  Shades of pink, peach, red, green, gold and orange focus on individual elements in each picture.  Varying line widths contribute to impressive layout and design.  

Raschka alters perspective from visual to visual, sometimes on a single page.  An illustration on the left might cross the gutter to the right drawing attention to another picture.  Everything, every single thing, the patterns on the farmer's clothing and basket, the facial expressions on all the characters, borders and no borders, the blend of text and images, flows flawlessly. 

One of my favorite illustrations is toward the beginning when the farmer and his dog visit the first tree, seeing the ripe apples.  Our eyes follow his pointing finger enjoying the display of fruit moving to the other page.  There we see the farmer's hand reaching to pick an apple.  Even without the text a story is being told.


Reminiscent of a classic folktale, Give and Take written and illustrated by Chris Raschka is a charming story of finding middle ground; to do so might supply a fine and sweet conclusion.  Listeners will be eager to join in when phrases are repeated.  I think this would be a great book to use for reader's theater.  It's as fresh, fun and delicious as a newly picked apple.

Here is a link to a series of video interviews with Chris Raschka at Reading Rockets.  At TeachingBooks.net Chris Raschka pronounces his name and gives a short history of its origin.