Lately she had been producing a number of illustrated poems which had been much admired both at home and at school. There had been one about a fire, one about an earthquake and one about a man who died in dreadful agonies after being cursed by a tramp. Why not try her hand at a shipwreck? All sorts of words rhymed with sea and there was "save" to rhyme with "wave" and she could use the three new blue crayons for the illustration. She found some paper and began.
Soon she was so absorbed that she did not notice the early winter dusk creeping into the room ....
Anna said, "Papa, do you really like the poem?"
Papa said he did.
"You don't think it should be more cheerful?"
"Well," said Papa, "a shipwreck is not really a thing you can be very cheerful about."
"My teacher Fraulein Schmidt thinks I should write about more cheerful subjects like the spring and the flowers."
"And do you want to write about the spring and the flowers?"
"No," said Anna sadly. "Right now all I seem to be able to do is disasters."
Papa gave a little sideways smile and said perhaps she was in tune with the times.
"Do you think then," asked Anna anxiously, "that disasters are all right to write about?"
Papa became serious at once."Of course!" he said. "If you want to write about disasters, that's what you must do. It's no use trying to write what other people want. The only way to write anything good is to try to please yourself."We liked Anna and her entire family immensely. I enjoyed her mother's trials as she learned to cook and sew, and we were amused by Anna's (initially) underachieving older brother, Max, who met the word count on his school essays by padding them with long lists of the foods his characters ate. In every essay the feasting ended with, "And then they all burst."
"What an extraordinary way to learn about Napoleon," said Papa. "Is that all you know?"
"But it's everything!" said Anna, rather hurt, especially as she had not made a single mistake.
Papa laughed. "No, it's not everything," he said, and settling down on her bed he began to talk about Napoleon. He told the children about Napoleon's childhood in Corsica with his many brothers and sisters, about his brilliance at school and how he became an officer at fifteen and commander of the entire French army at the age of twenty-six; how he made his brothers and sisters kings and queens of the countries he conquered but could never impress his mother, an Italian peasant woman. "C'est bien pourvu que ca dure," she would say disapprovingly at the news of every new triumph, which meant, "It's good as long as it lasts." Then he told them how her forebodings came true, how half the French army was destroyed in the disastrous campaign against Russia, and finally of Napoleon's lonely death on the tiny island of St. Helena.
Anna and Max listened entranced.
"It's just like a film," said Max.
"It's just that I think we should stay together," she said. "I don't really mind where or how. I don't mind things being difficult, like not having any money, and I didn't mind about that silly concierge this morning -- just as long as we're all four together."
"But Anna," said Mama, "lots of children leave their parents for a while. Lots of English children go to boarding schools."
"I know," said Anna, "but it's different if you haven't got a home. If you haven't got a home, you've got to be with your people." She looked at her parents' stricken faces and burst out, "I know! I know we have no choice and I'm only making it more difficult. But I've never minded being a refugee before. In fact, I've loved it. I think the last two years, when we've been refugees, have been much better than if we'd stayed in Germany. But if you send us away now I'm so terribly frightened ... I'm so terribly frightened ...."
"Of what?" asked Papa.
"That I might really feel like one!" said Anna and burst into tears.
At first he (Father) had thought that such a bookish person could not learn anything so practical (as helping with the windmill), but Hildebrand proved to be quite dexterous and Father was beginning to rely on him."Oh," I said, "he's bookish and handy. I wonder if he cooks, too?"
"I know," Father sighed.The girls burst out laughing at my/Father's response and when I realized how it sounded I laughed, too.
by Lita Judge. How do your daughters deal with the very serious and tragic stories that are associated with World War II?I started to answer in the comments, but thought it was worth addressing in a post.
.) But, doing it now with Betsy (who is 10) is not a problem. The girls have different temperaments and are affected by things so differently. Anne, for example, cannot hear a sweet, sappy song without crying. She has always been profoundly bothered by any kind of cruelty or injustice, and for quite some time did even not want to read the Addy books (the American Girl series about the Civil War) because she could not bear the way Addy and other slaves were treated. It was simply too hard on her sensitive psyche.
, and the girls both enjoyed learning more about JP II in The Young Life of Pope John Paul II (we're spending the rest of March, as a matter of fact, on our beloved Papa -- learning more about him and putting together a scrapbook about his life.)
by Yoshiko Uchida, and illustrated by Joanna Yardley, is a simple but affecting book about one little girl's reaction to an internment camp. Before she and her family are taken away, seven-year-old Emi is visited by her best friend, who gives her a bracelet as a memento of their friendship. The fate of the bracelet is tied to Emi's understanding of what she can and cannot hold on to for the duration of the war. A good introductory picture book on the subject of Japanese-American internment camps and their effects on those who were imprisoned.
by Ken Mochizuki, illustrated by Dom Lee, is also good as an introduction to the issue of internment camps. The focus is on one boy's experience of playing baseball while imprisoned, what that does for him later, and how he is motivated and strengthened. The kids cheered at the end of this simple and uplifting book.
by Louise Borden (illustrated by Niki Daly) and I think the kids were relieved to leave the oppressiveness of the internment camp books behind (except Anne, who was reading Farewell to Manzanar on her own.) This book was delightful, and reminded us of our favorite van Stockum books, as well as of the resourceful kids in Snow Treasure. Ten-year-old Piet must help two young friends skate to freedom in Belgium. In the process, he realizes that an enormous personal dream is within his grasp. A great read.
by Carmen Agra Deedy and Henri Sorensen, is another uplifting, and gorgeously illustrated book. This one has received several negative reviews, because it is not an historically accurate work. In reality, King Christian of Denmark did not don a yellow star and encourage all of his subjects to do so, as he does in this book. I disagree, however, with the objections to the book on this account, as the author makes it clear that this is a legend. As such, it was fuel for a great discussion about what legends are and why they spring up. Anne and Betsy were reminded of Lois Lowry's Number the Stars, which depicts King Christian as a greatly loved and respected leader. The Legend of King Christian X left the girls with what I think the author intended: the question, "What if?" What if a leader were really willing to do such a thing? What if I were willing? Am I?
by Eve Bunting, illustrated by Chris K. Soentpiet (who also illustrated one of our favorite Christmas reads, Silver Packages,) is a beautiful and deeply moving book about a Japanese-American family in the 1970's. Before moving from California to Boston, they pay a final visit to the site of the Manzanar internment camp where the father and his parents lived during the war and where the children's grandfather is buried.
revolves around 12-year-old Hazel Anderson, who lives with her family in the Pacific northwest. Hazel lives in a fantasy world, playing "spy" every chance she gets, hoping to catch "the enemy." But when she meets a real, live Japanese boy her world is changed. 15-year-old Sogoji is in hiding, to avoid being sent to an internment camp.
is a wonderful book. I think I first heard about it from Lissa (no surprise there) but somehow didn't get my hands on it until recently. It tells the story of a young girl in Holland. Amid post World War II devastation, Katje's family and her village struggle to stay warm and get enough to eat. Then one day, a box arrives from America. A little girl named Rosie is participating in the Children's Aid Society's effort to get badly needed supplies and food to thousands of Europeans. What happens after that is a testament to the generosity of the human heart. It also reminded me, funnily enough, of this thread of Danielle Bean's. Katje and Rosie, though they live an ocean apart and have never met, indeed form a true, loving and enduring relationship.
is another touching story based on real-life experiences. In 1946, the author's great-aunt came into possession of a journal, written and illustrated by little girls who had been forced from their orphanage home, La Maison du Clos, in Caen, France, in an effort to remain safe during the Allied invasion of Normandy. The 100 little girls, and their teachers, walked for more than two months, waving white flags all the way, before reaching the safety of Beaufort-en-Vallee, 150 miles away. The narration and illustrations in this book are the actual words and drawings of the girls.
Thanks to additional recommendations on WWII books from 4Real moms, we recently read Snow Treasure and The Secret Seder (thanks, Marilyn), Escape from Warsaw (thanks, Kathryn and Stef), The Little Riders (thanks, Erin) and The Cats in Kraskinski Square (thanks, Irene). "Well, it's like this, Peter. There is a good deal of gold in Norway, more than we'd like to have fall into the hands of an enemy, especially one that might use it to make war on us. So we've decided to guard it with our lives. It isn't the gold itself so much. It's the fact that it may be used to bring death to the very people to whom it belongs .... Other countries have been sending their gold to the United States for safe keeping. That's what we want to do too, if it can be managed."
Peter could hardly believe this was real life and that it was he and his father who were talking and not two characters in a book or a film.
This is such a great book. "Boys," he said, "I want you to look at this wonderful, brave little mother of yours. Do you know who suffered the most during the war? The mothers. Do you know who worked the hardest? The mothers. And do you know who will get the least praise? The mothers. You haven't any idea, and you never will have, what it cost your mother to keep going, never daunted, never giving up, taking each new blow in her stride and keeping you all happy under the worst possible conditions. Come on, boys, let's give her a cheer. To Mother! Hip, hip, hurrah!"
A couple weeks ago I mentioned that we'd started When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, by Judith Kerr. We finished it last week, and we all thoroughly enjoyed it. (There were a couple of rough spots, particularly one description of a man driven insane by the cruelty of the Nazis, but we steered around those.)"Look," said Mama, "these things don't always happen as you expect. When I was studying music I sometimes struggled with something for weeks without getting anywhere at all -- and then suddenly, just when I felt it was quite hopeless, the whole thing became clear and I couldn't think why I hadn't seen it before. Perhaps it will be like that with your French."
"What an extraordinary way to learn about Napoleon," said Papa. "Is that all you know?"
"But it's everything!" said Anna, rather hurt, especially as she had not made a single mistake.
Papa laughed. "No, it's not everything," he said, and settling down on her bed he began to talk about Napoleon. He told the children about Napoleon's childhood in Corsica with his many brothers and sisters, about his brilliance at school and how he became an officer at fifteen and commander of the entire French army at the age of twenty-six; how he made his brothers and sisters kings and queens of the countries he conquered but could never impress his mother, an Italian peasant woman.
"C'est bien pourvu que ca dure," she would say disapprovingly at the news of every new triumph, which meant, "It's good as long as it lasts."
Then he told them how her forebodings came true, how half the French army was destroyed in the disastrous campaign against Russia, and finally of Napoleon's lonely death on the tiny island of St. Helena.
Anna and Max listened entranced.
"It's just like a film," said Max.
"Yes," said Papa thoughtfully. "Yes, it is."
"It's just that I think we should stay together," she said. "I don't really mind where or how. I don't mind things being difficult, like not having any money, and I didn't mind about that silly concierge this morning -- just as long as we're all four together."
"But Anna," said Mama, "lots of children leave their parents for a while. Lots of English children go to boarding schools."
"I know," said Anna, "but it's different if you haven't got a home. If you haven't got a home, you've got to be with your people." She looked at her parents' stricken faces and burst out, "I know! I know we have no choice and I'm only making it more difficult. But I've never minded being a refugee before. In fact, I've loved it. I think the last two years, when we've been refugees, have been much better than if we'd stayed in Germany. But if you send us away now I'm so terribly frightened ... I'm so terribly frightened ...."
"Of what?" asked Papa.
"That I might really feel like one!" said Anna and burst into tears.
Recently, I posted a question about this book on the 4Real Learning forum. We were between read-alouds in our WWII unit, waiting for Hilda Van Stockum's The Winged Watchman to arrive. I wondered if I should pick up "Pink Rabbit" from our library in the interim. She unpacked her new crayons and took them all out of their box. There was a good pink and quite a good orange, but the blues were the best. There were three different shades, all beautifully bright, and a purple as well.
Lately she had been producing a number of illustrated poems which had been much admired both at home and at school. There had been one about a fire, one about an earthquake and one about a man who died in dreadful agonies after being cursed by a tramp. Why not try her hand at a shipwreck? All sorts of words rhymed with sea and there was "save" to rhyme with "wave" and she could use the three new blue crayons for the illustration. She found some paper and began.
Soon she was so absorbed that she did not notice the early winter dusk creeping into the room ....
Anna said, "Papa, do you really like the poem?"
Papa said he did.
"You don't think it should be more cheerful?"
"Well," said Papa, "a shipwreck is not really a thing you can be very cheerful about."
"My teacher Fraulein Schmidt thinks I should write about more cheerful subjects like the spring and the flowers."
"And do you want to write about the spring and the flowers?"
"No," said Anna sadly. "Right now all I seem to be able to do is disasters."
Papa gave a little sideways smile and said perhaps she was in tune with the times.
"Do you think then," asked Anna anxiously, "that disasters are all right to write about?" Papa became serious at once.
"Of course!" he said. "If you want to write about disasters, that's what you must do. It's no use trying to write what other people want. The only way to write anything good is to try to please yourself."
