Books Your Kid Should Read

My Penguin Osbert
by Elizabeth Cody Kimmel
illus. H. B. Lewis

Oh, my, this is a cute book. A classic be-careful-what-you-wish-for tale, this is the story of young Joe, who has a history of being a little disappointed in his Santa gifts. It's not that he doesn't get what he asks for (e.g. a red fire engine), it's just that they aren't quite what he meant (only 3 inches long). So this year, he decides to be really specific with his list, and sure enough - waiting for him under the tree Christmas morning is the pet penguin he asked Santa to bring him. At first Joe is overjoyed ... but then the realities of penguin ownership kick in, and Joe slowly realizes that he maybe didn't think this wish through. Funny all year long, with wonderful illustrations that add to both the humor and the cute factor (which is considerable).

Interested in this book? Get more details or make a purchase at the bookstore.

The Nativity
illus. Julie Vivas
1986

In religious terms, I tend to refer to myself as a militant agnostic: I don't know and you don't either. But the nativity is a pretty good story, whatever your beliefs, and this picture book version absolutely captivated me from the first minute I saw it as a lowly bookstore clerk back in the early 90s. The text is taken from the King James version of the book of Luke, familiar to anyone who's watched the Charlie Brown Christmas special year after year. But what makes the book special are the amazing illustrations, which depict Mary, Jesus, Joseph, the angels, and the whole crew not as stiff, gilded medieval royalty, but as quintessentially everyday folk. The drawings are rendered in playful watercolors, showing angels with raggedy wings and unlaced muddy workboots sharing a cup of coffee with a tired looking Mary. The infant Jesus is so stinking cute you want to pick him up and squeeze him, which - for me, at least - is a novel and enjoyable response to depictions of the birth of Christ. The overall effect of the book is to make the nativity supremely joyful, earthy, and ... plausible. Wonderful for reading aloud this time of year.

Interested in this book? Get more details or make a purchase at the bookstore.

Freckles
By Gene Stratton-Porter
Illus. Gene Stratton-Porter
1904

I inherited my copy of Freckles from my mom, who had supplemented the author's illustrations with a few of her own in the margins (really good ones, actually; she's quite the illustrator). I think she inherited the book from her mom - at any rate, the copy I have is quite old, from when the book was first published. I think I was nine or ten when I read it for the first time, and it immediately became one of my favorites. The writing style is unabashedly sentimental, full of heightened emotional reactions to the events that unfold. It's not a style that would be at all popular nowadays, but certain bookish pre-adolescents will eat it up. (And actually, I still enjoy the hell out of it.) The events take place in turn of the century Indiana, largely at a lumber camp preparing to take out some high value trees (oaks and other hardwoods) from a big swath of old-growth forest. Freckles, the title character, shows up at the camp one day looking for work. He's a half grown orphan, missing one hand, who knows nothing about his heritage and has a lot to prove. Since he obviously can't work at the camp itself, the manager, a Scot with a soft heart, takes a chance on giving him a job as Limberlost guard - the person responsible for watching over the parts of the forest that the camp hasn't yet begun to work. Freckles, urban to his core, has an uphill battle to navigate the raw nature of the Limberlost trail, but in the course of doing so he develops a deep interest in and love of nature, meets the love of his life, and ultimately discovers his roots. The story is steeped in naturalist's lore (the author was herself a noted naturalist and all-around interesting character) and while the environmental politics of the story are problematic by contemporary standards, the book also imparts a love of nature and a conservationist perspective that balances out the lumbercamp setting. It's also an excellent look back into midwest America at the turn of the twentieth century, with its blend of immigrant cultures, the deep contrasts between urban and rural life, and engaging characters from all social strata and both genders. Try it for free at Project Gutenberg.

All Creatures Great and Small
by James Herriot
1972

This is a perennial favorite in my library. I've probably re-read Herriot's books about ten times, and they never fail to make me laugh and cry out loud. All Creatures Great and Small chronicles the first years of Herriot's life as a country vet in the Yorkshire Dales, but it's a wonderful story even if you have no interest whatsoever in animals, Yorkshire, veterinarians, or country life. Herriot is a born storyteller, an acute observer of both human and animal character, with a gentle and self-effacing sense of humor that will win over even the most post-ironic hipster. This book and the four that follow it are WONDERFUL read-aloud books - the whole family will enjoy the stories, and Herriot's masterfully simple prose lends itself beautifully to the spoken voice. They're also great books for giving kids a sense of British life pre- and post-WWII, with the seizmic shifts that happened in social interactions, industrialization, and cultural norms. But it's the magical rendering of country life amid the characters - human and otherwise - of the Dales that will keep you coming back to this one again and again.

Also recommended: All Things Bright and Beautiful, All Things Wise and Wonderful, The Lord God Made Them All, and Every Living Thing.

Frog and Toad series
by Arnold Lobel
Illus. Arnold Lobel
1970-1979

My little sister and I used to act out the Frog and Toad stories sometimes. I was always Frog and she was always Toad. We practically had all the stories memorized from hearing them so often, and they're the perfect length for performing to grandparents and other favorable audiences. They're such simple tales, it's hard to put your finger on just what makes them so memorable. Part of it is the perfection of the illustrations, certainly. Another part of the attraction is the inimitable personalities of the two amphibian friends: Frog, amiable and easy-going; Toad, more serious and easily ruffled. Like real friends, they don't always agree with one another, but they always find a way to work things out in the end. The woodland setting of Frog and Toad's world evokes a gentle serenity that's balm to the parental soul, and the antics they get into will entertain kids from preschool into second grade. Great for beginning readers, but also wonderful for reading aloud.

Pet of the Met
by Don and Lydia Freeman
Illus. Don and Lydia Freeman
1953

This was one of my favorite childhood books, and only recently came back into print; my mom brought it as a gift for my daughter and it was like travelling back in time 30-some years - it had been that long since I'd even *thought* about this book. I'm so glad it's easily available again, though, because it really is wonderful. Pet of the Met tells the story of Maestro Petrini, the mouse whose job it is to turn pages for the prompter at the Metropolitan Opera house. A true devotee of opera, the only blot on Petrini's existence is the constant presence of his arch-enemy, Mefisto the cat. The two manage to co-exist peacefully until one day Petrini is carried away by a production of The Magic Flute and ends up giving the performance of his life. The story introduces kids to all kinds of great theatre and opera terms, and gives a magical window into backstage activities. And the pictures are simply marvellous, as you'd expect from the illustrator of the Corduroy stories. An excellent book to read aloud, over and over again.

Tuesday
by David Wiesner
Illus. by David Wiesner
1991

Oooh, I love this book. I first found it when I was working at a wonderful local bookstore in Columbus, OH while attending grad school (anyone remember Nickelby's?). I was straightening out the children's section and surreptitiously checking out the picture books. The Caldecott sticker on the front of this one made me take a second look, and boy, I was hooked. Wiesner is an absolute genius at telling a story with few or no words; he simply doesn't need them, so rich and detailed - and hilarious! - are his pictures. Tuesday chronicles an unusual evening in the lives of some pond frogs, whose lily pads mysteriously rise into the air one night ("around 8 pm") and take them on a wild adventure. They encounter confused dogs, sleeping grandmas, paranoid insomniacs, and baffled police officers, before settling back down into their swampy homes ... only to pave the way for next Tuesday's odd happening. Now I will admit that I have a slightly obsessed love of things froggy, so I was predisposed to like this book for that reason alone. But trust me, you don't have to be fond of amphibian life to love Tuesday, any day of the week.

Meet the Austins
by Madeleine L'Engle
1960

If I had to pick the one author who was most important to my teenage years, it would have to be Madeleine L'Engle. Reading her books always made me feel less awkward, less nerdy, less of a weirdo for having an artistic, academic family or being interested in big questions about life and death, love and morality. L'Engle reassured me that I wasn't the only one out there like myself, and that the teen years were just a brief episode in my life story. L'Engle's time trilogy books (starting with A Wrinkle in Time) are better known - and they're wonderful, too - but her books about the Austin family (there are four more novels after this one) have their own homey appeal. Daughter Vicky, who's 12 years old in Meet the Austins, is a sympathetic narrator of sibling squabbles, family crises, and her own rocky road through early adolescence. L'Engle has a true ear for dialogue and personality, and the Austin family manages to be extraordinary and endearing without ever being cloying or precious. I first read the book in the early 1980s, some twenty years after its original publication, and didn't find it one bit out of date. I suspect the same could be said for today's readers: sure, you might have to explain what a "phonograph" is, or why none of the kids have cell phones, but the situations and relationships are as timely now as they've ever been.

The House At Pooh Corner
by A. A. Milne
Illus. Ernest H. Shepard
1928

If your only familiarity with Pooh Bear comes from the Disney cartoons, hie thee to a bookstore and buy some of the original stories, pronto. Don't get me wrong: as a child of the 1970s I have as many fond memories as anyone of watching those Disney animations of a Sunday. But there's really nothing to compare with the language, imagery, and wit of Milne's words and Shepard's pictures. The House At Pooh Corner is the second storybook devoted to Pooh and his pals (Winnie-the-Pooh being the first), and it's got to rank as one of the all-time great sequels in literary history. No, really! Not only are we introduced to Tigger, a scene stealer in the fine tradition of such "secondary" characters as Sam Weller or Mr. Toad, but Owl's house gets blown down in a storm, Piglet and Pooh build Eeyore a "new" house, and the wonderful game of Poohsticks is invented. As usual with A. A. Milne's work, there's as much to entertain the adults who are reading the stories as the children listening to them. As I reread it recently (To myself, since you ask. At bedtime. You got a problem with that?) I was struck anew by the poignancy of the latter chapters of Pooh Corner. Christopher Robin is growing up, and though the assurances in the final sentence that "wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing" are sufficient to quiet any younger reader's fears, the older reader can't help but acknowledge how hard it is to find that enchanted place sometimes. Fortunately, there are always the Pooh books to help us out.

Sandra Boynton Board Books
by Sandra Boynton
Illus. by Sandra Boynton
1977-present

OK, I know it's cheating a little to have just one entry for ALL of Boyton's board books, but they're all so flippin' good I couldn't choose an individual one to feature. Boynton's signature goofy animals and irreverent prose fulfill my top requirement for board books: they're good enough to read over-and-over-and-over-and-over-and-over-and-OVER again without making you want to stab your eyes out with a fork. These were hands down my daughter's favorites from 0-2 years, and they're still in the top 10. I honestly think we own 95% of what Boynton's written, and we love them all, but the creme de la creme in our household are: The Belly Button Book; Blue Hat, Green Hat; What's Wrong, Little Pookie? (for real, so cute it could injure someone); But Not the Hippopotamus; Hippos Go Berserk; and Hey! Wake Up!

The Wind in the Willows
by Kenneth Grahame
Illus. Ernest H. Shepard
1908

I read The Wind in the Willows for the first time when I was maybe 8 or 9, and I've re-read it every few years ever since. Grahame's characterization of life on an English river (and thereabouts) through the eyes of a mole, a water rat, and the inimitable Mr. Toad is by turns lyrical, mystic, clever, and laugh-out-loud funny. Will appeal equally to boys and girls, and animal lovers will be in pure heaven. You HAVE to get the edition with Ernest Shepard's illustrations - don't be fooled by imitations! Shepard's ink and watercolor drawings absolutely capture the tone and feel of Grahame's text (yes, that's the same Shepard who illustrated all the Winnie-the-Pooh books, so he knows from woodland creatures.) Splurge on a hardcover; trust me, you'll want a copy that withstands multiple readings.