You Are Home

The word home has numerous meanings.  It can be a physical place, open to the air or enclosed by walls, windows, doors and a roof.  It can be a space providing sanctuary.  It is where we begin and end each day.  Home can be anywhere if those we love are with us. 

Of the more than 7.7 billion people on our planet, the number of those without homes is stunning.  Habitat for Humanity estimates 1 in 4 people live in conditions that harm health, safety, prosperity and opportunities.  When you read The Bridge Home (Nancy Paulsen Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, February 5, 2019) written by Padma Venkatraman you are keenly aware of the overwhelming obstacles street children, numbering in the millions, in India encounter daily.  You will come to understand how the term home and family are redefined by circumstances.

TOGETHERNESS
Talking to you was always easy, Rukku.  But writing's hard.
"Write her a letter," Celina Aunty said, laying a sheet of paper on the desk.  Paper remade from wilted, dirty, hopeless litter that had been rescued, scrubbed clean, and reshaped.
Even the pencil she gave me was made from scraps.
"You really like saving things, don't you?" I said.
Crinkly lines softened her stern face.  "I don't like giving up." she said.

Viji and Rukku, sisters, live in a home cloaked in a cycle of physical abuse by their father.  Their mother suffers broken bones but feels trapped by her lack of skills or education and won't leave.  When the abuse reaches the girls, Viji, packs what belongings, food and money she can, taking Rukku with her, early one morning.

Being mentally challenged, Rukku, the elder of the two, sees the world differently than others.  It is this difference which binds the girls together.  They believe they will never be separated; not by a sly conductor or a cranky tea shop owner.  They believe people like the kindly shop owner's wife will supply them with food and hope.  They believe the arrival of a stray dog Rukku names Kutti will grow that hope.

Very early in their stay in this new city, the sisters meet Muthu and Arul, two homeless boys living on an abandoned, crumbling bridge over a river.  The girls take up residence there too.  Viji begins working with Muthu and Arul, climbing up and down and wading through piles of garbage to find glass or metal they can sell to buy food.  Using beads given to Rukku on a return visit to the tea shop, she weaves necklaces they can also sell to buy other necessities; food and mats to place on the stone for sleeping.  As meager as their conditions are, the four humans and one canine form a family out of necessity and a growing fondness for each other.

Justified uneasiness on Viji's part results in them running for their lives, leaving behind what they have gathered.  When the monsoon season begins, they are hiding and living in a graveyard.  The rains and hordes of mosquitoes take a toll on two of the children.  Heart wrenching decisions come too late.  Reality descends with unbearable heaviness.  How will hope grow again?


The technique of Viji writing to Rukku employed by Padma Venkatraman to tell their tale is the work of a master storyteller.  It brings us intimately into the lives of the sisters, the two boys and Kutti.  It is also a foreshadowing.  Although Viji indicates in the beginning writing is hard, her descriptive phrases, thoughtful musings and embedded conversations are breathtakingly beautiful.  We feel a constant connection to the characters in each of the forty-four chapters; each as long as necessary to convey a particular moment.

Religious beliefs, Hindu, Islam and Christian, are woven in the story in discussions of faith and one's purpose.  Each night the stories Viji weaves for Rukku, and then for Arul and Muthu, are her way of helping them all to hold fast to their dreams.  Here are several passages.

"Viji and Rukku together?" you asked.
"Always."
"Viji and Rukku," you repeated.  "Always together."
We had no roof or walls to keep us safe, and that probably should have worried me more, but you seemed content.
You pointed at the sky.  "Look, Viji."
"No roof means we get the best view of the pretty stars, right, Rukku?" I said.
"Pretty," you agreed.
We lay shoulder to shoulder and watched the stars sparkle, while Kutti slept beside us.  Your eyes sparkled, too, and the light inside them pierced through my fog of worry.

I'd seen you laugh before, but never quite like this.  This was the first time you'd broken into a laugh halfway through a tantrum.  And the first time you laughed without hiding your mouth behind your hands, as if you were scared to be happy.
Now you threw back your head the way Muthu was doing.  And as the three of you howled away, like a pack of jackals, hungry and homeless though we were, I felt I'd done the right thing by leaving.

I breathed in its citrus scent.  I started to peel it, noticing things I'd never noticed before: how the leathery peel isn't colored the same all the way through, how the papery sections inside feel like leafy veins, how the pulp is shaped like raindrops.
When, at last, I placed a section in my mouth, I could hear it burst as my teeth met the flesh, squeezing the juice out into my tongue, tart at first and then sweet.  Everything else melted away except for the taste, the smell, the feel of the fruit on my tongue.
I ate the fruit slowly.  The way you liked to do things.
Until then, I'd thought it was a sad thing that you were sometimes slower than the rest of us.  But that day, I realized that slow can be better than fast.  Like magic, you could stretch time out when we needed it, so that a moment felt endless.  So the taste of half an orange could last and last.


There are books you remember reading for the first time, the rest of your life.  The Bridge Home written by Padma Venkatraman is one of those books.  Would it be a great read aloud?  Absolutely.  Would it be a super selection for a book group?  Without a doubt.  Will it make a print on individual hearts?  It will.  It has.  It does.  There is an extensive author's note.  You will want to consider having multiple copies in your professional collections.

To learn more about Padma Venkatraman and her other work, please follow the link attached to her name to access her website.  Padma Venkatraman has an account on Instagram and Twitter.  You can read an excerpt at the publisher's website.  Padma Venkatraman reads aloud for the audio book.  Padma Venkatraman writes a guest post at Cynsations, author Cynthia Leitich Smith's site, titled Padma Venkatraman on Golden Silence, Gilded Words.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like . . #2

After hundreds of stories the magic of the lamp remains.  As the flame is blown out, three wishes are cast into the air, one for anyone in the world, known or unknown, one for someone you love, including a pet and one for yourself.  You are indeed a very important person.  Over the years, countless children have asked if the wishes come true.  An affirmative reply followed by another story fashions an understanding of wishes made with the storytelling lamp.

Even today another opportunity presented itself to add further veracity to the power of wishing and wishes coming true.  The original wish in question involved people without homes.  The Christmas Eve Tree (Candlewick Press, September 18, 2018) written by Delia Huddy with illustrations by Emily Sutton brings two lost beings together. 

A

forest of

Christmas trees

stretching over the hills.

That's where the story begins.  

A fir tree, not planted correctly, grows crookedly into another neighboring tree.  It's unable to increase its size.  One year in December the trees around the small fir are harvested as Christmas trees.  Still woven into the branches of the other tree, the small evergreen makes an unplanned trip to the city.  

One by one all the trees disappear into large venues and homes until only one tree is left; the tree with the tiny fir wrapped in its branches.  An eager shopper wants the last tree and the clerk removes the unwanted fir.  About to toss it with the other rubbish, a small child still in the store makes a request.  The tiny fir is now his tree. 

Rescuing a cardboard box from the trash, the boy scoops up mud along a shore and plants the fir inside the paper container.  Locating another larger cardboard box under a railroad bridge, the boy settles in for the night in his makeshift home.  The tiny fir nearby believes its luck is shifting.

I belong to someone now, it thought to itself.

Fortunately, someone walking by the boy tosses a coin to him.  Rather than use it for food, he buys candles and a box of matches.  Soon the candles fastened on the tree cast a glow to others arriving to spend the night in their cardboard boxes.  One of them begins to play his accordion.  A Christmas tune serenades people on their way home or to events or simply enjoying the sights.  A policeman is unable to control the happy crowd which brings traffic to a standstill.

Now you might think after this night filled with the wonder of the Christmas season, things would be different for those living under the railroad bridge.  The child leaves the area and the tiny fir tree.  Oh, dear readers, this is not the end.  Real Christmas magic lasts for more than a season, it goes on and on and on.

Thirteen years ago, author Delia Huddy worked on the text for this story at the end of her life.  She ties every seemingly unconnected incident together beautifully.  It is a descriptive flow of what-if-this had not happened.  Inserting the thoughts of the fir tree into the narrative adds an intimate touch.  Here is a passage.

The candles burned steadily

and the old man played, and still the people sang.

The little fir tree felt it would burst with happiness,

because clearly the boy had forgotten

that tonight he would be sleeping in a cardboard box

under the railway arch, and that tomorrow

he would eat not turkey but soup in a soup kitchen,

if he was lucky.

The smaller trim size (5 5/16" x 6 1/8") of this edition is perfect to hold in younger readers' hands, tuck under a pillow or to bring children close for a cozy read aloud.  The scene on the front (right) of the opened book case extends to the left on the back.  The buildings' windows are glowing with light and many of them have special Christmas light outlines on their walls.  Looking at the boy we know he's on a mission and he seems to have a homeless furry friend keeping him company.  The title text is in silver foil.

The opening and closing endpapers in shades of pale blue and white feature the cityscape above the railroad's arched bridge.  Beneath the text on the initial title page is the fir tree alone except for a bird.  A rabbit joins the bird, now on a branch, on the formal title page.

Emily Sutton's delicate watercolor illustrations on double pages, full pages or gathered together on a single page display a world window brimming with intricate details.  The name on the store where the boy gets the tree is D. Huddy & Son Department Store.  The store window is a vision in Christmas toys and decorations.  The scenes along the railroad arches are realistic and poignant.  We feel as though we can step into the story and hear the singing.

A stunning fold-out, double page picture surely will have readers gasping.  Several layers move from the path along the arches, to the bridge above and the buildings beyond both.  A star-studded night sky provides the background.

One of my many favorite pictures is on a single page.  We are close to one of the bridge arches.  The boy is standing outside his cardboard box.  The fir tree in its box is being adorned in small red candles.  Two of the homeless residents are watching; the elder is seated on an upturned box playing his accordion.  The small black dog watches.  Three passersby have stopped to listen or sing.

This new edition of The Christmas Eve Tree written by Delia Huddy with illustrations by Emily Sutton is a gem.  Without a doubt this story will prompt discussions about homeless persons, the interconnectedness of moments in all our lives and the spirit of Christmas.  Whether you have this title in your professional and personal collections already or not, you will want this edition.  It's utterly lovely.

To learn more about Emily Sutton and her other work, please follow the link attached to her name to access her website.  At the publisher's website you can view the interior image matching the above-quoted text.  Emily maintains an account on Instagram.  At The Guardian Emily shows readers how to draw a Christmas Eve tree.

To Go Without

I may have mentioned more than once about my parents growing up during the Depression in the United States.  This translated into my sister and I living in a home with economy in all things stressed.  You did not stand in the shower with the water running.  You got wet, turned off the water, soaped up and turned the water back on to rinse.  The end.  You only turned the lights on in a room when you entered.  When you left, off went the lights.  Our clothes were hand-me downs or hand-sewn.  We hung our laundry outside weather permitting or on lines strung in the basement.  My parents never had a mortgage or a car payment. I was an adult before they owned a credit card, used a check book and finally purchased a clothes dryer.  There was no extra but our lives were rich in other ways due to the frugality and creativity of Mom and Dad.

This practice became invaluable when I found myself in my twenties living in a tent for several months and then in motel rooms for several more months.  Finally with a home built, times were still tough.  Many evenings arriving home from work meant going out into the woods to cut wood for heat because the cost of fuel was too expensive.  There were nine weeks without a trip to the grocery store so money could be used to pay bills and provide food for my two black Labrador friends. These experiences taught me to be exceedingly grateful for what I have today and to be exceedingly compassionate for those who do not.

When my ARC and swag purple package for Katherine Applegate's newest title Crenshaw (Feiwel & Friends, September 22, 2015) arrived I did not open it.  When I purchased more than one copy at a local big box store and from a bookshop, I did not read them.  I was waiting for the right moment, wondering how Katherine would tell this story.  Several weeks later as soon as I read the first sentence I knew I would not be able to stop reading until I finished the final word.

I noticed several weird things about the surfboarding cat.

It's a little bit unsettling to realize you are the only person on a beach in June to see a surfboarding cat that opens his umbrella too soon and then floats over your head.  After closing your eyes and counting to ten, the cat and the dropped umbrella eventually vanish but not before you recognize him.  It has been years since you've seen him; he is an imaginary friend after all.  Why are you seeing him now?

Jackson is about to begin his fifth grade year in school.  This guy deals strictly in facts wanting to become an animal scientist as an adult.  He and his best friend, Marisol, have started a dog-walking business, See Spot Walk.  

When four purple jellybeans, Jackson's favorite flavor, appear in the middle of a cerealball game with his five-year-old sister, Robin, he is sure Crenshaw is in the vicinity.  Cerealball is a game of having the right aim plus it helps to chase away the hunger pangs.

Three years ago when Jackson was seven he first saw Crenshaw.  Lots of guys and gals have imaginary friends so he took it in stride not even wondering why the cat chooses then to appear.  Now when questioned Crenshaw says imaginary friends must be invited.  He asks Jackson to tell the truth.

As Jackson probes for real answers, we learn of his family living in a minivan when he was seven.  We understand the strain of a father forced to leave a job due to a debilitating illness, a mother working three jobs because her teaching position is cut and of the necessity and humility of playing your guitar on a busy street corner to earn a meager amount of money for your family.  The sadness of having to sell all your possessions except those filling a grocery bag at a neighborhood yard sale is deeply felt.

Crenshaw is unable to leave Jackson, engaging him in conversations about the current state of his family's crisis.  The boy comes to the realization there is only one plan which will work but Robin unknowingly circumvents his idea.  After several poignant scenes Jackson feels deep in his heart the value of holding on to a little bit of magic for as long as you need it, even if your head tells you otherwise.

Divided into three parts Katherine Applegate opens each with a quote from A Hole Is To Dig: A First Book Of First Definitions written by Ruth Krauss with illustrations by Maurice Sendak.  This is Jackson's treasured childhood book.  Each part, a blend of now and three years previously, completely captivates readers with short chapters containing profound truths within, at the beginning and end of each.

The dialogue between Jackson and Crenshaw is wise, wonderful and funny.  It's not every day a large cat who enjoys taking bubble baths is part of your world.  In talking with his parents, sister and best friend we come to respect and love their individual personalities.  Here are several example passages.

It was late, June, nice and warm, but I shivered.
I felt the way you do the instant before you leap into the deep end of a pool
You're on your way to somewhere else.  You're not there yet.  But you know there's no turning back.

Maybe that's why I liked the name Crenshaw.  It felt like a blank piece of paper before you draw on it.
It was an anything-is-possible kind of name.

"Well, what if you are visible?  I can't let you just walk down the hall to my room.  What, if my dad wakes up to get a snack?  What if Robin has to go to the bathroom?
"She doesn't have a litter box in her room?"
"No. She does not have a litter box in her room."
I pointed to the toilet.
"Ah, yes. It's all coming back to me now."
"Look, we're going to my room.  Be quiet.  And if anybody comes out, just, I don't know, freeze.  Pretend you're a stuffed animal."
"Stuffed?" He sounded offended.  "I beg your pardon?"

Having no permanent home or regular income and going hungry is a tragic truth for too many people.  Crenshaw written by Katherine Applegate depicts this reality through the voice of a ten-year-old boy and his imaginary friend.  It will find a place in your heart, counsel your head and give you hope.  I urge you to read this more than once and share it as often as possible.

There is a website dedicated to this title which can be accessed by following the link attached to Katherine Applegate's name.  At the publisher's website you can read an excerpt.  At School Library Journal Rocco Staino conducts an interview with Katherine Applegate, Q&A: Katherine Applegate Talks about Her Upoming Novel "Crenshaw".  A guest post by Katherine Applegate and the cover reveal can be found at the Nerdy Book Club.  On the release date Crenshaw was celebrated on Watch. Connect. Read. the blog of John Schumacher, Scholastic Ambassador of School Libraries, on Sharpread, the blog of I Love Reading 3rd grade teacher, Colby Sharp and at the Nerdy Book Club with a post by Katherine Applegate, No Easy Way To Say It. Enjoy the book trailer.

Riddles And Rhythms

Of all the large cities I've visited, north and south, east and west, the one I've enjoyed the most and returned to again and again is Chicago.  The history, architecture, museums, theaters, restaurants, parks,  libraries, big stores and small shops along the shore of Lake Michigan populated with people from all walks of life are interesting, entertaining and simply amazing.  Considering I'm happiest hiking the hilly forests of northern Michigan without a soul in sight, that's saying quite a bit.

When an author chooses to place their book in a setting familiar to a reader, there's an immediate connection, a sense of coming home.  In her first fiction book Blue Balliett selected her own community on the south side of Chicago, Hyde Park.  This title, Chasing Vermeer, earned her numerous awards two of which are the Edgar Award and the Agatha Award.

The other two books in this trilogy, The Wright 3 and The Calder Game are either set in Chicago or begin there with her cast of familiar characters.  A town in Michigan, Three Oaks, is the setting for her third book, The Danger Box (reviewed here). By now as a reader I have a vested interest in the books of Blue Balliett drawn to them first for the place in which the well-told stories unfold.  I was thrilled to find the setting of her fifth book, Hold Fast (Scholastic), back in the city of Chicago.

It was the bitterest, meanest, darkest, coldest winter in anyone's memory, even in one of the forgotten neighborhoods of Chicago.
Light and warmth seem gone for good; mountains of gray
snow and sheets of ice destroyed the geometry of sidewalk and
street.

On this day, in the heart of winter, a man disappears leaving behind his bicycle, groceries and a pocket notebook.  The man is Dashel Pearl, husband of Summer and father to eleven-year-old daughter, Early and Jubilation, a younger son. He is a man who loves words and books, a page at the Harold Washington, the public library in downtown Chicago.

Dreams, a love of the writing of Langston Hughes, and hope are the glue binding this family together.  When Dash begins cataloging books for an unknown buyer, the extra money is welcome.  This money for Dash's college education will help them realize their desire to live in their own house.  But now their small living quarters are no longer filled with laughter and plans for a brighter future.  Despair descends as the police tell their tale and leave the three minus one.

Inquiries made of the wrong people lead to masked intruders stealing all they own, destroying their tiny one room apartment.  Fearing for their lives, Sum, Early and Jubilation leave in the dead of night with nowhere to go but a shelter for the homeless.  It seems the definition of bad has become much worse for the three Pearls.

To add insult to injury the police are trying to implicate Dash in a larger crime rather than simply being missing.  An unsolved European diamond heist, smuggling and kidnapping swirl around the threesome as they attempt to adjust to their new circumstances.  It is eleven-year-old Early, a thinker, a lover of words and riddles like her father, who knows it is up to her to solve the mystery of  his disappearance.

Life at the shelter brings countless rules, crowded conditions, a new school for Early and an air of hopelessness into their world.  With grit and determination Early begins to gather available resources disregarding the taunts of classmates and the lack of support from the police using the assistance of her father's old high school teacher and a tutor at the shelter.  The hardest thing has become knowing who to trust.

Crooks and cons are lurking and listening.  Death is waiting in the wings.  More money than the Pearls can imagine is at stake.  And how does The First Book of Rhythms by Langston Hughes tie this all together?


The language used in telling this tale of the plight of the homeless, the plight of the Pearls and the peril facing them at the hands of a ring of criminals is brimming with realism. Every word, sentence, paragraph and chapter is strung together artfully and with purpose.  Chapter headings are single words; ice, click, crash, cling, clutch, circle, crimp, crack, chase, catch, cover, cast, click and ice.  Each is defined as a noun and a verb, at times with completely different meanings depending on the culture in which they are used, on the first page of the chapter.  For careful readers these words become clues.

Beautiful descriptions of place, characters' personalities and thoughts fill the pages of this story.  For this reason readers are immersed in the emotions, the tension, caused by each event as the action escalates.  Almost without being aware we watch, we listen, we dream, we think, we write and we plan with Early.  Here are a couple of many passages I highlighted with my ever-present sticky notes.

"What's a printing?" Early had asked.  She loved the way her father shared information; his tone always made a plain old fact feel like something special.

It was odd how quickly each Pearl learned that wishing aloud made everything worse.  Survival was a matter of adapting, of learning how to hide in plain sight.

Understanding what she meant, Sum sighed. "I guess I am.  Reading is a tool no one can take away. A million bad things may happen in life and it'll still be with you, like a flashlight that never needs a battery.  Reading can offer a crack of light on the blackest of nights.


After you've read the final page, the note and acknowledgements you will quickly hold this book and, with a speed which can only be noted as fast, begin to think of all the people who you believe will want to read this book.  The number will be considerable.  Hold Fast written by Blue Balliett is a timely volume speaking to readers on more than one level; a story of family, homelessness, mystery and the power of the human mind and spirit.

Be sure to visit Blue Balliett's website linked to her name above.  It's one of the better sites filled with information about all of her books with a special section for educators.  This is a link to the Scholastic website for Blue Balliett.  Here is a link to a recent interview in TimeOutChicagoKids about this title.

Enjoy this interview where Balliett speaks about why and how she writes.