She Works For The Greater Good

Sometimes the life of a single being is so glorious, it takes your breath away.  The more you know about the days of their life, the more your admiration and respect increases.  You realize every moment of the hours of their existence is orchestrated for a greater good.  It's about survival not only for them, but for every other living being.

As humans, the more we take notice of the value of these beings, the better able we are to protect and preserve their place in our natural world.  Upon the first reading (and every reading thereafter) of Honeybee: The Busy Life Of Apis Mellifera (Neal Porter Books, Holiday House, February 4, 2020) written by Candace Fleming with art by Eric Rohmann, readers find themselves immersed in the life of a valued member of the hive, a female worker bee.  We are there for every day of her life and we are humbled by her accomplishments.

One summer morning deep in the nest,

a brand-new honeybee
     squirms,
       pushes,
         chews
through the wax cap of her solitary cell and into . . .
a teeming, trembling flurry.
Hummmmm!

This new arrival, Apis Mellifera, is tended by another older bee.  She then feasts on pollen stored in a cell.  Her color gradually shifts from gray to golden yellow.  Her strength increases but not enough for flying.

Each day of her new life is chronicled in an engaging, factual and lyrical narrative.  She is first a caretaker of the nursery, cleaning it and nurturing the larvae.  By now Apis Mellifera is eight days old and still not able to fly from the hive.

In each stage of her life differences in her body prepare her for new tasks.  She helps others care for the queen who lays thousands of eggs per day, one egg per cell.  By day fifteen Apis Mellifera has finished another designated task, but she is still not allowed to fly from the hive.  From cell building she moves to maker of honey.  She takes nectar and works with it, and places it into an awaiting cell.

Now at day eighteen she moves to the opening of the hive.  Here she will guard their home from invaders like bears, birds or other bees.  A honeybee can only use her stinger once.  It results in death.  This time, on this day, she is successful in thwarting the endeavors of another bee.

Do you know how many days pass before Apis Mellifera can leave the hive? When she finally does, you will cheer for her and her companions as they search for individual items, water, propolis, pollen and nectar.  Our Apis Mellifera is seeking nectar.  When she finds it, we read about every move she makes until she goes back to the hive.

There she communicates her discovery through dance and makes numerous trips until sunset when she pauses.  As the days of summer pass, Apis Mellifera ages.  Her remarkable performance comes to a close, after flying more miles to more flowers than you can imagine.  But back at her home, in a cell . . .


Author Candace Fleming begins her narrative prior to the title page.  Her words as noted above bring us directly into the life of the new honeybee.  Each subsequent page turn completely engages us with an accounting of the honeybee's days.  Her word selections appeal to our sensory perceptions.  Her verbs and adjectives depict a world unlike our own, but she adeptly connects us to the activities of this female worker, Apis Mellifera.

Each task performed by Apis Mellifera, prior to her leaving the hive, is connected with the word flying.  This builds a gentle tension until she is able to leave, gather nectar and function in her mission to assist in the making of honey.  We are with her every beat of her wings.  Here is a portion of a longer passage.

     She circles down.
         She alights on a blossom.
            She scrabbles over its petals, searching for nectar inside.
Poking her long tongue deep inside the flower,
she sips and swallows,
and skips to the next flower.
The sugary fluid does not go into her belly.
It goes into a special sac called a honey stomach.
This is how Apis will carry her nectar home.
As she visits each flower, grains of pollen stick
to her brushy body.
They cling to her bristly legs.
She carries this pollen
from flower to flower,
     brushing it off,
        picking it up,
           pollinating the field.


The larger-than-life portrait of the Apis Mellifera, Apis, as shown on the front of the matching dust jacket and book case, resting on the top of a coneflower is stunning, absolutely stunning.  We are seeing what she sees.  The colors, rich and vibrant, complement each other in striking beauty.  The sky extends over the spine to reveal a scene of rolling green hills.  Along the bottom is a field of flowers in lavender and yellow.  Both the jacket and case are varnished, glossy.

On the opening and closing endpapers the color is the deep purple from the title text on the front of the jacket and case.  Rendered in oil paint on paper by Eric Rohmann, the illustrations are a breathtaking display of the world of Apis from her perspective.  Prior to the title page we are very close to her coming from the cell, watching as she breaks free from its confines.  We move a bit farther back with the next double-page picture.  She is half-way outside the cell.  When we next turn to the title page, she is still there in that position, but we've pulled back more to see all the activity in the hive around her.

Each of the two-page visuals throughout the remainder of the book are highly detailed representations.  Light and shadow are used masterfully.  As the tasks Apis completes bring her closer to the entrance to the hive and her first flight outside, more light comes into the images.  You'll feel as though you are either next to Apis or another honeybee in this hive.

When she is at the opening of the hive, ready to leave, you'll be holding your breath . . . guaranteed.  Then a gorgeous four-page gatefold celebrates her flight with a single word, Flies!  Here in this scene, and in numerous other illustrations, Eric Rohmann shifts the point of view to increase our emotional involvement.

One of my many, many favorite illustrations is when Apis is poised at the entrance to the hive prior to her first flight.  The opening is irregular in shape, covering most of the right side, crossing the gutter and a small half circle on the left.  Leaves frame some of the opening edges.  The sky shown is the palest of purple changing to golden at the bottom.  It's dawn.  Some stars can still be seen.  On either side of our Apis are other honeybees, ready to begin their jobs for the day.  On the right we can see dark antennae and some heads.  On the left are three other bees with varying portions of their bodies visible.


Honeybee: The Busy Life Of Apis Mellifera written by Candace Fleming with illustrations by Eric Rohmann is a marvelous study in words and artwork of the female worker honeybee.  At the close of the book across two pages on a background of golden orange is a black and white large image of Apis Mellifera with her parts labeled and thorough explanations for each of those parts.  Following this are two pages with sections titled:  Helping Out Honeybees, A Bit More Buzz, Buzzing Around Online and More Books About Bees.  I highly recommend this title for all collections, both personal and professional.

To discover more about Candace Fleming and Eric Rohmann and their other work, please follow the links attached to their names to access their respective websites.  Candace Fleming has accounts on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. At Penguin Random House you can get a peek at the first two pages.

Update:  Author, reviewer and blogger Julie Danielson showcases this book with her review and process art from Eric Rohmann at her blog, Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  Be sure to visit.  February 6, 2020



Be sure to visit Kid Lit Frenzy hosted by educator Alyson Beecher to view the other titles selected this week by participants in the 2020 Nonfiction Picture Book Challenge.

A Single Seed

Last week a new initiative was announced by the Michigan Seed Libraries.  For the first time there is a One Seed, One State project in the State of Michigan.  Seed libraries are not new, but as stated at the Michigan Seed Library website, they are beneficial:

Seeds are one of the world's most valuable resources in sustaining plant biodiversity, preserving cultural heritage, and feeding communities across the globe.

Both the American Library Association and the Public Library Association have publications on the purpose and process of establishing seed libraries.

The worth of a single seed is never to be taken for granted.  All we have to do is stand among the towering giants in a grove of oaks or wander through a field of wheat to realize the veracity of this belief.  A single seed is a reminder of the greatness which grows from something small.  Hundred Feet Tall (Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, February 11, 2020) written by Benjamin Scheuer with illustrations by Jemima Williams is a tale (and a song) of a young rabbit who finds and plants a single seed.  These words are wrapped in hope and love.

Under the tree is a little brown seed
that you find in a dusting of snow.

As the seed is carried home by the young rabbit, a mental vow is made.  This seed is not alone.  It is to receive the best care possible.  Dirt is placed in a jar and the seed is placed in the dirt in that jar.

If we could hear what the seed has to say, we would hear words of gratitude.  This seed knows it will grow.  It will grow because of

love and light.

This jar holding dirt and the seed is watched daily by the young rabbit.  The youthful arborist notices all the changes; sprouting roots and little green shoots.  Soon it's taller than its caretaker can stand.

As a parallel to the growth of the seed readers welcome the family's newest member, the birth of a baby bunny.  Eventually the tree and its roots are much too tall and full for the jar.  As a community, the young rabbit, family and friends take it outside to reside in a small plot in front of their home.  Here all will enjoy the bounty the branches of the tree will provide. 


With a rhyming word at the end of the second and fourth lines, author Benjamin Scheuer issues an open invitation for reader participation. He switches it up with the words (chorus) spoken by the seed.  The cadence supplied by that rhyming has an extra beat.  Readers and listeners alike will be toe-tapping before the seed sprouts.  Here is a passage.

Up from the earth grows a little green stalk
with leaves that unfold to the sun.

Under the earth roots are growing and growing.
Something exciting's already begun.


The rustic, vibrant brick background spanning from the left edge to the right edge on the open and matching dust jacket and book case provides a splendid canvas for the text and our protagonist.  To the left, on the back, we read the words of the final line of the chorus.

One day
we'll STAND
at a HUNDRED feet
TALL.

The young rabbit, with those wide-rimmed red glasses, is delightful with a capital D.  The green in the leaves and the purple and yellow in the tape measure are wonderful contrasting colors.  Here the seed, now a small tree, is reaching toward its new height.  On the dust jacket the outlines of the brick and all the elements of the oval are varnished.

On the opening endpapers the main color on the jacket and case is used to sketch characters and scenes from the book on a crisp white canvas.  On the closing endpapers the young rabbit and new baby bunny are playing instruments above the music and words to Hundred Feet Tall.  A two-page picture of the tops of the buildings in the neighborhood, with the tree fully grown on the right, provides space for the verso and title page text.  (The dedication reads: 

For Elodie
With love from Mummy and Daddy xxx)

The illustrations rendered

both digitally and with watercolors

by Jemima Williams are double-page images, with the exception of two pages of four smaller illustrations showing the growth of the seed as we look through the young rabbit's window.  We can see the changing seasons by the weather outside and the decor inside the home.  Readers will be scanning the illustrations with every page turn to find the marvelous details Jemima Williams tucks into each one.

On the license plate of the family car it reads BU-NNY.  There is a picture of a teething ring on the bulletin board in the kitchen.  The father rabbit is holding a book about babies as he and his wife watch the young rabbit with the jar and seed planted inside it.  In addition to these elements in the pictures, readers get a very real sense of the love between the members of the rabbit family and of all the animals in their neighborhood, living in harmony and working for the common good.

One of my many, many favorite illustrations is a close-up scene of the young rabbit sleeping at night.  Dreamy clouds frame the image with the thicker and wider ones on the left for the placement of text.  Within the clouds are stems and leaves.  Between the bedroom window curtains is the jar with the tree on the windowsill.  On the right, nestled in bed, is the rabbit.  The book being read before sleep arrived has to do with a very large plant and a castle in the sky.  This particular book makes another appearance and coincides with the text on those pages.


The melody of a rhythm created with words and enlivened with charming images will engage multiple readers of Hundred Feet Tall written by Benjamin Scheuer with illustrations by Jemima Williams.  I can hardly wait for the book's release in a week to hear the song.  I'll probably be humming it for days.  The book will make a wonderful addition to a story time featuring rabbits, growth, seeds, trees or the value of each individual.  You may be small but there is more than one way to be tall.  I know you'll want to have this book in your personal and professional collections.

To learn more about Benjamin Scheuer and Jemima Williams and their other work, please follow the links attached to their names to access their websites.  Benjamin Scheuer has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, SoundCloud, Spotify and Twitter.  Jemima Williams has accounts on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.  At the publisher's website you can view interior images.

Save To Savor . . . And Share

We collect.  We gather.  We save.  What an individual chooses to collect, gather or save depends on their needs and wants.  Some items are necessary for life; others are reminders of moments in that life.  Some things are tangible, and others are not.  Those we hold in our minds.

We may find some things harder to collect, gather or save but this is what makes them all the more cherished by us. In A Jar (G. P. Putnam's Sons, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, January 21, 2020) written and illustrated by Deborah Marcero is a book which opens our hearts to possibilities.  It shows us how nothing can break the bond of friendship formed with love.

Llewellyn was a collector.
He collected things in jars.

Inside his jars were things representing all the wonder he witnessed around those objects.  If you looked inside his jars, you would see how observant Llewellyn was.  He gathered things he noticed as he wandered out in the world.  (He collected heart-shaped stones, just like me.  I already love this little guy.)

One evening something out of the ordinary happened.  The sky was an exquisite color of red and Llewellyn wanted to save it.  When he was at the edge of the water, he met Evelyn.  Llewellyn put some of that sunset glimmer in a jar and presented it to Evelyn.  You won't believe what the jar did all night long in Evelyn's bedroom.

Llewellyn and Evelyn became the best of friends, collectors of the marvelous things they saw, heard, tasted, smelled or felt.  Nothing was impossible.  During winter, spring and summer they filled jars with all the delights they shared; jars holding trips down ski hills, walks through a field of red tulips and summer shadows.

Jars of all shapes and sizes were placed on shelves lining the walls of Llewellyn's home.  One day, though, this all stopped.  Evelyn's family was moving. 

On one of those nights after Evelyn was gone, when sleep did not come easily, Llewellyn saw something, a collectible something.  He needed to share it with Evelyn.  Later, miles and miles away from Llewellyn, Evelyn saw something, too, a collectible something.  Friendship finds a way to keep love glowing and growing, spreading out.


When author Deborah Marcero speaks of Llewellyn and then, Evelyn, these are two children in which readers will immediately feel a kinship.  They, with respect and no fanfare, appreciate everything around them.  They notice things others might walk past.

Deborah Marcero draws us deeper into the story with her rich descriptions.  We find ourselves astonished and willing to join Llewellyn and Evelyn in their mutual quest to collect those exquisite moments which sometimes only happen once.  Here is a passage.

One night, the sunset painted the sky the color of
tart cherry syrup.  Llewellyn ventured down to the
shore with as many jars as he could carry.

(I don't know about you, but I don't think I'll ever look at a sunset again without thinking of tart cherry syrup.)


Every element on the front of the dust jacket is like one part of an enchanting whole.  The play of sunlight and shadow, the tall trees stretching past the top edge, the vast array of bluebells and Llewellyn and Evelyn, there together, with their jars is like the final piece in a perfect puzzle.  You want to sigh, and you do. 

To the left, on the back, is a canvas of a sunny yellow sky and slightly rolling hills of greens with a bit of blue and brown.  The setting sun, a fiery orb, casts long shadows of a single tree, Llewellyn and Evelyn.  A single sentence says:

FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC.

The book case background is a bright golden yellow.  On the back, left, and on the right, front, are jars of all shapes and sizes, filled with a variety of items.  On the left, Evelyn is kneeling in front of a jar as a turtle comes out with a snail on its shell.  On the right, Llewellyn is reaching into an equally large jar.  He is close to a butterfly inside with two others and a leafy branch.  A cocoon hangs from the branch.

On the opening and closing endpapers is a pattern of wind-blown leaves in hues of green shifting to yellow, orange and red as they move from left to right.  On the back the color alterations are in reverse.  Butterflies float across the title page and over the gutter to the verso page.  They flutter on all sides of Llewellyn who stands on some grass and holds a jar.

Rendered

in pencil, watercolor, ink, and digital media

the illustrations elevate a lovely narrative to excellence.  Smaller images, more close-up of the characters, are placed within two-page pictures.  Although what has been collected remains in a jar, the memory attached to it swirls around the endearing characters.

Sometimes three smaller visuals in a row will be used to highlight one or two words.  They show a sequence of events.  Two-page illustrations and single-page pictures extend page edge to page edge to create a dramatic effect.  And sometimes jars, many jars filled with the beauty of a season, are all we see on a page.  The delicate details, fine lines and color selections by Deborah Marcero are stunning.

One of my many, many favorite illustrations is beneath the words:

the newness of spring . . .

The sky above our characters is a pale blue gray.  Rolling hills of tulips in hues of red and pink cover two-thirds of the single page.  The perspective goes from tulips that are almost the size of dots to much larger along the bottom of the page.  About halfway up the page are Llewellyn and Evelyn.  All we can see of them are their heads and upright ears and a tiny bit of the top of their clothing. This is utterly charming.


When you read this book, In A Jar written and illustrated by Deborah Marcero, no matter if it's the first time or the tenth time, you have to remind yourself to breath.  It's that striking in words and artwork.  This is a book your readers and listeners will ask you to read again and again.  I imagine a collection of jars filled with objects and memories will grow.  I highly recommend this for your personal and professional collections.

To learn more about Deborah Marcero, please follow the link attached to her name to access her website.  Deborah Marcero maintains accounts on Instagram and Twitter.  At the publisher's website you can view the endpapers.  Deborah Marcero is interviewed on the podcast Picturebooking.

Words And The Freedom To Fly

We readers, those of us who enjoy reading and spreading the joy of reading to others, know certain truths.  We know words are powerful.  Every single word, sentence, paragraph and story we read becomes a part of our story.  Whether we are informed by facts or fiction, we are not the same.  We are more than we were before.  We are connected to the creators of those words, sentences, paragraphs and stories and every other person who reads them. 

For these reasons and numerous others, being able to read is not only a right (The Students' Right to Read, NCTE and The Freedom to Read Statement, ALA) but a gift we give to ourselves.  The Oldest Student: How Mary Walker Learned To Read (Schwartz & Wade, an imprint of Random House Children's Books, January 7, 2020) written by Rita Lorraine Hubbard with illustrations by Oge Mora is a moving tribute to the resilience and determination of a remarkable woman.  With every page turn your admiration for this woman grows until the one striking moment you realize you're changed by learning about her life.

Whenever young Mary Walker was tired, she would shield her eyes from the sun and watch the swallow-tailed kites dip and soar above the trees.

As she watched those birds dip and soar, she imagined it was the same as being free.  Mary Walker never stood still long though, she had to keep working on the plantation in Alabama.  She also knew she was not allowed to learn to read.  She was eight years old, a slave and the year was 1856.

At fifteen and fatherless, she and her family were freed by the Emancipation Proclamation.  Many of the freed people left but Mary stayed with her mother and siblings.  She worked seven days a week.  She was paid a quarter for that week of work.

Along the road one day, Mary Walker was given a Bible by an evangelist.  She treasured this gift but couldn't read a word of it.  There was no time to learn to read.  There was only time to work as a sharecropper, a maid, nanny or cook, a mother to three sons and a wife to two husbands. (Her first husband died.)  Mary worked and worked and worked like this for decades until she was sixty-eight years old.  There was no more sharecropping for her, but she still worked doing whatever she could for others.

One by one, Mary's husband and three sons died.  She found herself alone at 114 years old.  She decided it was time to learn to read.  Like she had worked and worked at all her other jobs, she worked and worked at learning to read and write.  The day Mary Walker could read was cause for celebration.  People in her community of Chattanooga celebrated.  Other journalists from other towns came and celebrated.  And a man from the US Department of Education arrived and celebrated. She was 116 years old.  She was an impressive and inspirational force and still is today.  (Mary Walker passed away on December 1, 1969.)


As you read about the life of Mary Walker as written by Rita Lorraine Hubbard you feel a growing sense of respect.  With each detail about Mary Walker's life, layer by layer, your wonder for this woman builds.  There is a tension created by Mary having to work and wanting to read.  You find yourself making exclamations out loud.  You find yourself saying, if Mary Walker can do it, so can I.  Here is a passage.

Mary was twenty years old when her first son was born.
She opened her Bible and marveled at the squiggles inside.  There had been no
time to learn to read.
A friend wrote Mary's son's birth date in the Bible:  August 26, 1869

Then Mary dipped a pen into an inkwell and made her mark beside it.
Not a letter, not a name, just a mark.  It was the best she could do.


As soon as you gaze at the open dust jacket, you recognize the signature artwork of Oge Mora.  This image on the front and all the illustrations throughout the book are rendered

in acrylic paint, china marker, colored pencil, patterned paper, and book clippings.

The soft swirl of sky and clouds on the front moves over the spine to the back.  What changes is Mary Walker.  On the front she is much older and hugging her beloved Bible in front of buildings in the city where she resided.  To the left, on the back, she is much younger, standing along the road.  She is still hugging her Bible, perhaps on the day she received it.  Behind her to the left, a field is being tended by a sharecropper.  The caption on the back reads:

YOU'RE NEVER
TO OLD TO LEARN.

On both faces of Mary Walker, old and young, there is quiet determination.  Her closed eyes suggest deep reflection. 

On the book case a collage of paper pieces is covered by a wash of golden yellow.  From left to right swallow-tailed kites soar higher and higher and off the right-hand corner.  A light silhouette of Mary Walker is standing in the lower, left-hand corner, looking up and shielding her eyes from the sun.

On the opening and closing endpapers, Oge Mora has placed black and white photographs of Mary Walker in blue frames on a varied blue patterned paper.  There are lines of green and yellow running through it also.  A smaller visual on the title page shows an open book with swallow-tailed kites flying from the pages.

Oge Mora's pictures span two pages, single pages or part of a full page.  She conveys deep emotions in the placement of every single element in her images.  As each page is turned, we find ourselves looking for Mary Walker.

One of my many, many favorite illustrations spans two pages.  A table covers nearly one-half of the bottom.  On the left it's a place for text.  From the left to right, on this table are a cup, a crumpled piece of paper, pages covered in the words Mary Walker, some blank pieces of paper and Mary Walker's glasses.  Mary Walker is bent over the table, her head resting on her curved left arm.  In her right hand she holds a pencil.  She has fallen asleep sitting in her chair.  Above the rounded form of her back a river of letters moves from right to left.  From the top of the page to the table, the canvas is dark. 


The life of this woman as portrayed in The Oldest Student: How Mary Walker Learned To Read written by Rita Lorraine Hubbard with illustrations by Oge Mora is uplifting in every aspect.  The blend of text and images creates a superb tribute.  There is a selected bibliography on the verso page and an author's note at the end.  I highly recommend this title for your personal and professional collections.

To learn more about Rita Lorraine Hubbard and Oge Mora and their other work, please follow the links attached to their names to access their respective websites.  Rita Lorraine Hubbard has accounts on Facebook and Twitter.  Oge Mora has accounts on Instagram and Twitter.  Rita Lorraine Hubbard is interviewed at Chapter 16 by author, reviewer and blogger Julie Danielson and at Book Q&As with Deborah Kalb.


To view the other titles selected this week by participants in the 2020 Nonfiction Picture Book Challenge, visit Kid Lit Frenzy hosted by educator Alyson Beecher.

Waiting For Sweetness

They appear with regularity annually.  There's still snow on the ground.  There's still a chill in the air but the days are longer and more often are filled with sunshine. They, these buckets, hang from sugar maple trees, gathering sap no longer necessary for the winter months. 

For those of us who adorn our pancakes, waffles, French toast or hot cereal with dribbles or pools of maple syrup, we are grateful to see these buckets.  Maple syrup is also preferred by some in baking and cooking as a distinctive sweetener.  The smell alone is enough to bring delectable memories soaring into our minds.  Two January releases focus their attention on collecting the sap, sugaring time. 

For those eager to learn about the process, Bear Goes Sugaring (Neal Porter Books, Holiday House, January 7, 2020) written and illustrated by Maxwell Eaton III is an enlightening and lively title.  You may know Maxwell Eaton III for his Truth About . . . (Seriously Funny Facts About Your Favorite Animals) series.  Maxwell Eaton III brings the same fascinating information and the same generous helping of humor to Bear Goes Sugaring as he does in his other marvelous nonfiction books.

The winter has been long and cold, and while the temperature is still below freezing at night, it's now above freezing during the day.  The sun is shining, and spring is on its way.  It's sugaring time! Time for Bear to make maple syrup.  

That means
pancakes,
right? (questions his canine companion) (squirrel is still snoozing)

Further details appear in a sign posted in front of Bear's home about the correct months of the year and temperatures.  Inside Bear's home she finds her brace, a hand-powered drill, her drill bit, stainless steel spouts and buckets with lids.  As she looks for the proper tree, readers are educated about four different types of maple trees.

We follow her to a sugar maple and watch as she drills a proper, size and length, hole and hammers in the spout.  A bucket is hung and covered.  It's no surprise when her dog asks if it's syrup yet.  Bear happens to notice a hole in one of the buckets (her dog did this earlier mistakenly with the hammer).  We learn about other kinds of buckets.  As the sap drips into the bucket, dog is puzzled to discover it's not syrup.  An explanation of sap follows.

As the sap falls into the buckets Bear sets up her evaporating system.  We watch her build the structure and stack the wood.  We follow how the process works to turn the sap into syrup.  We are reminded about the proportions of water and sugar in sap.  Guess how many buckets of sap are needed to make a gallon of syrup?  This is the reason syrup is expensive and prized.  It's one more generous gift from trees.

Bear works diligently for a week bringing buckets of sap to covered collection buckets until she has enough to fill the evaporator pan.  For an entire day she works over the evaporator, gradually adding sap to the pre-heater, stirring and straining.  There are a few more steps as night falls and then Bear takes a pot of syrup into the house.  (At this time her dog and the squirrel are nearly passed out from hunger.  Their craving for pancakes has reached an all-time high.)  As the full moon rises outside, inside at the kitchen table stomachs start to fill with pancakes topped with . . . maple syrup.


The information provided by Maxwell Eaton III flows like a conversation between friends.  Each portion of the process is supplied concisely and correctly to readers.  It's as if he understands exactly what we need and want to know.  The side comments by Bear's dog and the squirrel are hilarious!  Even a warming on a sign on the verso page about the process and need for a responsible (human) adult is presented with comedic conversation.  Dog says:

I'm 
forty-two
in dog
years.

Generous additional fact balloons address specifics outside of the general narrative.  Illustrations are labeled for clarity.  Here are passages from one-and one-half pages.

Wait a minute! Bear notices a hole in one of the buckets.
Weird! (Dog)

Luckily, just about anything that can safely hold liquid food can hold sap.  Bear digs an empty plastic milk jug out of the recycling bin, cleans it, and cuts a hole near the top.
SNIP!
I lost scissors
privileges long
ago. (Dog)

Then she hangs it on a spout just like a bucket and ta-da!
I guess we'll
never mention
this again. (Dog)

Milk jugs are a great way to collect sap
without spending a lot of money. (Caption box)


The full color image on the matching dust jacket and book case is a wonderful scene of Bear working at night at her evaporator.  The trees with the hanging buckets, mountains, greenery and starry sky extend over the spine to the left edge of the back.   The design and layout on the front are superb with the steam framing Bear's face and her puny comment is just a hint of the fun and facts to come.  On the dust jacket the title text is varnished.

A lighter shade of the red found in the title text covers the opening and closing endpapers.  On the title page is a panoramic scene of Bear's home and her barn.  The sun is just starting to rise between the mountains.  A two-page illustration contains, on the right, the front of Bear's home with the first page of the book and on the left is the mountain behind her home allowing for space for publication information.

Maxwell Eaton III rendered his pictures

with watercolor and graphite pencil on 140 lb. bright white, cold press, watercolor paper.

They alternate between full-page pictures and double-page visuals.  There are insets of detailed images within the main illustrations as well as smaller pictures on top of larger images.  The point of view shifts, also.  When Bear is inserting the spout into the tree, we only see her hand holding the hammer as it knocks the spout in place.  Careful readers will notice a humorous thread within this narrative based on the comments of Dog and Squirrel.  (And did a mouse just join this book?)

One of my many, many favorite illustrations is a bird's eye view of Bear working at her evaporator.  Around the evaporator Bear on the left is skimming foam, in the center she is adding wood to the fire and on the right, she is pouring sap into the pre-heater from a bucket.  A shovel is sticking up in the snow.  Empty buckets are on the left near the barn.  In front of the wood stack on the right, Dog and Squirrel, on their backs, are lamenting the length of time this is taking and their "extreme" hunger.

This book, Bear Goes Sugaring written and illustrated by Maxwell Eaton III is funny and factual.  I can't imagine a unit on sugaring, maple syrup, food or the transition from winter to spring without this book.  There are pages showing a map of Maple Syrup Territory, A Variety of Evaporators, Old Spouts and a Traditional Sugarhouse.  At the close is an author's note and list of three resources for further reading.  I highly recommend this title for your collections.

To learn more about Maxwell Eaton III and his other books, follow the link attached to his name to access his website.  Maxwell Eaton III maintains accounts on Instagram and Twitter.  At Penguin Random House you can view the title page.  At the publisher's website are links to two sets of activity sheets.



Gary D. Schmidt and his late wife, writing under the name of Elizabeth Stickney, have penned a more intimate fictional account of sugaring and the wait for maple syrup.  Almost Time (Clarion Books, an imprint of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, January 14, 2020) illustrated by G. Brian Karas is an endearing story about a boy and his father.  It's about anticipation, patience and love set within the changing seasons.

When Ethan had to eat his pancakes with applesauce instead of maple syrup one Sunday morning, he knew it was almost sugaring time.

He was curious to know if the sap was running yet.  His dad said the days were still too cold.  After sledding one day, Ethan discovered a shining sun does not necessarily mean the temperature is warmer.  The following week on Sunday Ethan again wondered if it was time to tap the trees. 

He was told the nights are still too long.  He looked for extra light and his best stuffed toy friend, but it was too dark.  Another week passed and the only difference was Ethan now had a loose tooth.  When he wondered when it will fall out, his dad was fairly certain it will come out when it's time to tap the trees.

Ethan waited and waited.  It's as if time had stopped.  It's still too cold during the day and the nights still had hours and hours of darkness.  And no matter how loose his tooth was, it did not fall out.

One day, as if by magic, something happened to Ethan at school.  When the bus delivered him home Ethan had something to show his dad.  His dad had something to show Ethan.  For an entire week the father and son duo worked together until one Sunday morning, the wait was over.  Yum.


The writing in this book is similar to the waiting and making of maple syrup.  The cadence is slow, soft and patient with results that are sweet but not too sweet.  It's worth the wait because when you get that first taste, you can't help but sigh.  Gary D. Schmidt and Elizabeth Stickney write with the sure knowledge of the human spirit and of the relationship between a loving child and parent.

They use a combination of narrative and conversation.  A rhythm is established by coming back to each Sunday.  Between those Sundays we see how things move forward from week to week.  They add charming details like the name of Ethan's teddy bear, Roosevelt.  Here is a passage.

When he bit down on a walnut, he discovered something.
"My tooth is loose!" he said.

His father inspected. "I expect it will fall out before long."
"How long?" asked Ethan.
"About as long as it takes the sap to start running," Dad said. 


The three trees with buckets featured on the front of the matching dust jacket and book case are tall compared to Ethan.  It's as if they symbolize the length of the wait for him.  You can imagine Ethan standing there and speaking to them as he holds Roosevelt.  What do you think he is saying?  I really like the use of shadow in the trees and Ethan and his footprints in the snow.

To the left, on the back, on a canvas of muted red is a small square with rounded corners.  On this cream-colored background sits a jar of maple syrup on a table.  Roosevelt, his head peaking over the edge of the table, is looking at it. 

A bright, deep spring green covers the opening and closing endpapers.  On the title page, with his back to us, Ethan is looking out a window at the snow.  Rendered in

pencil and digital color

these illustrations by G. Brian Karas are enchanting, elevating and expanding the text.  The double-page picture for the dedications is a gorgeous night scene, a panoramic view of Ethan and his dad's home in the woods.  It's a limited color palette with a crescent moon in the sky.

The images alternate in size to complement the text and pacing.  We are shown single-page pictures, double-page visuals, or smaller rounded corner squares or rectangles on a full page.  The facial expressions on Ethan and his father along with their body postures are lovely, so lovely.  There is an exquisite tenderness in their relationship as shown by G. Brian Karas.

One of my many, many favorite illustrations is on a single page.  It is a loosely framed square.  It is in Ethan's bedroom at night.  We can see the outside through the window next to his bed.  A single light on the table next to his bed casts a glow in the room.  Ethan is snuggled under the covers with Roosevelt.  Ethan is looking out the window as his dad bends down and kisses him good night on his forehead.  The text for this picture is:

And the nights were still long.

You'll want to add this title, Almost Time written by Gary D. Schmidt and Elizabeth Stickney with illustrations by G. Brian Karas, to your list of huggable books.  It will enhance your story time themes on family, seasons, patience and how maple syrup is made. Hold a place on your personal and professional bookshelves for this delightful story.

To learn more about Gary D. Schmidt and G. Brian Karas, please follow the links attached to their names.  G. Brian Karas does have an account on Twitter. 

What Is . . . This?

Usually in northern Michigan our snow arrives and leaves annually as anticipated.  When the first snow falls it is not unusual for everyone to pause, wherever they are, and watch, a soft sigh escaping unbidden. (Or, in the case of my students, running to the bank of windows at the back of the library, and laughing out loud.)  Yet, when the final patch of snow melts, months later, it's cause for jubilation.  Normally, the snow changes from month to month in texture and depth.  This year, though, has been one of many surprises.

Our snow goes from a stormy seven inches deep to gooey-wet in a matter of days.  It's as if Spring does not want to let Winter have its proper time.  This weather gives us a huge variety of ever-changing snow characteristics.  Some Snow Is . . . (Putnam, G. P. Putnam's Sons, an imprint of Penguin Random House, LLC, November 5, 2019) written by Ellen Yeomans with illustrations by Andrea Offermann offers readers an ode to all the various types of snow.

Some snow is First Snow.
We've waited for so long snow.
Is it really snow snow,
or only heavy rain?

When snow first falls it rarely lasts, but as the narrator says, we wait for the snow which stays.  In between, there will be a blend of rain, freezing rain, sleet and snow.  Sometimes the snow is so light, it simply goes where the wind blows.

As it deepens there is play; children falling with arms and legs spread and making angels.  The snow quality shifts allowing the building of snow forts and snowballs.  It is a time to be an architect or simply a maker of shapes.

On the days the snow pours from the sky, wet, heavy and deep, we shovel to help our father clear a pathway and the driveway.  We move it from one place to another place.  It gets higher and higher.  Guess what we do now?

We wander in the woods, looking at tracks made by all sizes of creatures.  Who went there?  Who went here?  We join other children, towing sleds to the top of the hill and careening down at take-your-breath-away speeds.  And we do it again because we can.

There is one snow better than any other kind of snow.  It's so wild and windy, we huddle cozy inside until the next morning we roll and sculpt another chilly child, a familiar figure seen across lawns and fields.  He stands until snow is but a thought we hold until the next First Snow.


The words in this book written by Ellen Yeomans reveal a personal connection to snow, portraying vivid experiences.  The snow described here is as children see it.  It's depicted as an abundance of opportunities.  At the end of the fourth and eighth lines a word rhymes, tying the rhythm together.  Here is another passage.

Some snow is Angel Snow.
Finally covers all snow.
Lightly and slightly deep snow---
drop down and make some wings.


The liberal use of blue on the front of the matching dust jacket and book case evokes the chill of winter.  The primary colors in the children's clothing with the green in the one coat is a colorful contrast.  Everything is enlivened with the falling snow and snowy text.  This image is pure happiness.  To the left, on the back, is a crisp white canvas with three smaller pictures of children enjoying snowy activities.  Words from the narrative describe the kind of snow:

First Snow!
Sledding Snow!
Snowman Snow! 

On the opening and closing endpapers is a continuation of the falling snow against shades of a paler blue sky.  On the title page we are standing inside the children's home, next to a chair used to drape snow clothing. A pair of boots are beneath it.  The door is open to the snowy world outside.

Each illustration, rendered

with pen, ink, and watercolor with digital touches

by Andrea Offermann is a cheerful celebration of each day filled with each kind of snow.  Her attention to detail is superb.  Her point of view shifts from bird's eye as the children look up at snow, to a wider-angle of snow starting to gather on neighborhood homes to a panoramic view of the community atop the sledding hill.

The scenes are a beautiful depiction of an array of settings with our eyes drawn immediately to the children.  The facial expressions on these characters are wonderful portraits.  These pictures, ranging in size from double page to full page and to a group of three smaller images, are so spirited you expect them to come to life at any minute.

One of my many, many favorite illustrations spans two pages.  We are looking down at a large snowy expanse.  In the upper left-hand corner, we see a small portion of a wooden fence and open gate.  In the lower right-hand corner, a child, hands on hips, is standing and looking as we are.  Next to them is a pooch pal seen in some of the pictures.  We are all looking at snow angels spread before us, connected by footprint paths.  The angels are accented in blue and yellow.


This book, Some Snow Is . . . written by Ellen Yeomans with illustrations by Andrea Offermann, is for remembering and wondering.  It is brimming with joy and appreciation for snow.  It would be a wonderful addition to a theme on winter, snow or perhaps a study of Snowflake Bentley.  You'll want to add this title to your professional and personal collections.

To learn more about Ellen Yeomans you can follow her on her Instagram or Twitter accounts.  To discover more about Andrea Offermann, you can access her website by following the link attached to her name.  She maintains a blog and an account on Twitter.  At the publisher's website you can view the title page.

On a personal note I want to introduce you, if you aren't already familiar with it, to a blog maintained by author and reviewer Julie Danielson titled Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  I have visited this blog for more years than I can remember.  I have learned wonderful things about authors and illustrators through her posts.  In this post, I discovered Some Snow Is . . . I am grateful to Julie Danielson and to her passion for children's literature.

Respect

Music permeates every aspect of our lives.  Daily there is a cadence and chorus of sounds.  The hum of a furnace, air conditioner, a clothes or hair dryer, or a refrigerator inside our homes blend with the whistle of wind, birdsong, the howl of coyotes or the ringing of wind chimes.  Reading or hearing a single word can add an entirely new series of notes to this familiar symphony.

Anyone who grows up near the Motor City and spends their life in Michigan has sung and danced to the music made by the Queen of Soul.  All you have to do is hear her name and the sound of her voice singing the words of one of her songs will play in your mind all day long.  A Voice Named Aretha (Bloomsbury Children's Books, January 7, 2020) written by Katheryn Russell-Brown with illustrations by Laura Freeman pays tribute to this extraordinary musician's life in memorable words and images.

Folks came from miles around to hear Reverend C. L. Franklin preach at New Bethel Baptist Church in Detroit, Michigan.  The famous preacher gave soul-stirring sermons that could make you shout, moan, or nod and whisper "Amen."

As some of the most famous names associated with African American arts and civil rights visited the Franklin home in Detroit, Michigan, quiet Aretha watched and listened.  Aretha and her siblings all sang gospel music in their father's church, but little Aretha had a voice that was pure magic.  Twice deep sadness entered the child's life before she was ten; first for the end of her parent's marriage and then the death of her mother.  Aretha sang through her sorrow with her first solo.

More than a thousand people heard Aretha sing that beautiful uplifting song.

At twelve she traveled with her father.  He preached and she sang.  Both sent out a riveting message to those gathered to listen.  At eighteen she moved to New York City and signed with a record company.  In keeping with what she had been taught, Aretha never performed unless everyone was allowed to attend.

Before too long Aretha realized she needed to switch record companies.  She did this and got a new band.  Her song "I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love you)" rose to the top of the charts selling one million copies.

Aretha Franklin became the first woman to enter the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.  The year was 1987.  Do you know why Aretha Franklin's signature style of wearing a fur coat on stage began?  (Readers of this title will learn.)  To everyone who heard her perform in person or listened to her music on their radios or stereos or today, through their devices, she lifted (and still lifts) them up.  Everywhere Aretha Franklin went, the world was enriched for her having been there.


Meticulous research and an abiding respect for Aretha Franklin inspired and directed the writing of Katheryn Russell-Brown.  This is evident in every word we read.  As we move from passage to passage through Aretha Franklin's life, it's as if there is a soulful beat similar to her music captured and presented on the pages.  Here are two separate passages.

Before she went on tour with her band, Aretha was warned that club owners sometimes tricked singers out of their money.  No way was she going to let that happen!  She demanded payment in cash, before the show.  And when she went on stage, she always put her handbag where she could see it.  Aretha could put on a show and take care of business.

Each one of her songs is like a sermon, with a story and a lesson, seasoned with life wisdom, hard work, and always, lots of soul.  They remind us of the greatest joy or the deepest pain.


The warmth of the colors, the vibrant reds, purples and golden yellows, shown on the open and matching dust jacket and book case, convey the essence of Aretha Franklin, the Queen of Soul, and her music.  The portrait of her singing as a little girl and as an adult with the album between them symbolizes the length and breadth of her talent.  Both facial expressions depict a revelation and release of her gift into the world.

The curtain on the front continues over the spine to create another stage with these words between the two curtains.

Aretha's songs inspire
us to think, love, and
respect ourselves
and one another. 

On a regal purple a collection of 45 records of Aretha Franklin's songs are displayed on the opening and closing endpapers.  Aretha Franklin stands clothed in a yellow gown, singing with a microphone in her hand on the title page against a canvas of white.

The illustrations, rendered digitally with Photoshop, by Laura Freeman are presented on single pages and as double-page pictures.  Laura Freeman places the elements in her images close to us or farther away to fashion an emotional moment.  When young Aretha learns of her mother's passing, she is shown smaller, standing in front of a dresser with the gift from her mother of a nurse's kit on top.  She is hugging a picture of her mother.  There is an abundance of white space around her.  When she is recording one of her first songs, she is shown larger than life before a hanging microphone in the studio.  Her face and upper body fill the page as she stands, eyes closed.  To her right two other accompanying singers are shown in shades of gray.  Readers will note the attention to detail as to historical correctness in architecture, clothing, automobiles and hair styles in the illustrations.

One of my many, many favorite pictures is a double-page picture.  For the background a "sea" of seated people is spread in faded colors.  From right to left is a stage, widening a bit on the left.  On the left side is a piano in blue.  Behind a red podium is ten-year-old Aretha Franklin.  Dressed in yellow, hair in two braids and standing on a chair to be seen with her arms outstretched, she is singing her first solo.  Her back is to us.


This book, an acclamation to the life work of the Queen of Soul, A Voice Named Aretha written by Katheryn Russell-Brown with illustrations by Laura Freeman, is one to have on the shelves of your professional and personal collections.  At the close of the book are two pages titled More About The Queen Of Soul.  This is followed by A Note From The Author, A Note From The Illustrator, Songs By Aretha Franklin, Notes For "More About The Queen Of Soul" and Sources.  Once you've read this individually or to a group, be prepared to be singing and dancing to her songs for days.

To learn more about Katheryn Russell-Brown and Laura Freeman and their other work, please follow the links attached to their names to access their respective websites. Katheryn Russell-Brown has an account on Twitter.  Laura Freeman has accounts on Instagram and Twitter.  Katheryn Russell-Brown wrote a post at the Nerdy Book Club and was interviewed at Book Q&As With Deborah Kalb.  Please enjoy these two musical videos.  I've been singing them in my mind for several days.




Take a few moments to visit Kid Lit Frenzy hosted by educator Alyson Beecher to view the other titles selected this week by participants in the 2020 Nonfiction Picture Book Challenge.