In the month that is now famous for celebrating both love and those of different backgrounds, my mind puts the two together, and comes up with compassion, the kind of love the world most needs. In classrooms, I see it as one of the most difficult values for children to put into practice. Partly, this is a developmental stretch, challenged by the elementary-school-aged child's need to discover self. But I believe that finding self comes partly in finding how one fits with others, an activity it's not too early to begin during elementary school.
Holly Keller's Horace is a small leopard, who lives with his tiger parents. In his debut book, Horace, (Greenwillow, $15.00) and Mulberry( $4.95), a book I've many times recommended to adoptive parents, he struggles with looking different. In the sequel, Brave Horace (Greenwillow, $15.00; ages 4-7), he's been invited to a monster-movie party, and is afraid to go. Rather than tell his parents, he acts out all kinds of strange behaviors at home and school. Finally, at the party, he discovers there are peers more frightened than he is. His sympathy for friends gets him over his own fears. There's much to talk about in this book; communicating fears, how a hidden fear can grow, and the way helping a friend brings you comfort.
Ellen Stoll Walsh specializes in emotion-based books for young children. She has, once again, shown her understanding of the way young children think, in For Pete's Sake (HBJ, $15.00; ages 3-6). Pete, the alligator, believes he's a flamingo, and he continually expresses concern over his differences. His kindhearted friends reassure him with a multitude of caring explanations. He's not pink because he probably isn't ripe yet and "It takes longer for some". When Pete remarks on having four feet, they tell him he's lucky to have two extras. By book's end he's seen other "flamingos" who look just like him, and popping with excitement, tells his friends "I'm different but the same" . They agree with the same low-key reception about his revelation that's typified their answers about his worries. This is a book made for conversation. "Why does he feel different?" and "How do his friends treat him?" might lead children to see that when they feel at odds, or see others in uncomfortable situations, true friendship means making someone feel special.
History is composed of poignant dramas that are superb backdrops for highlighting empathetic actions. For older children, there are a number of new characters caught in difficult situations. They respond by showing goodness to others.
The young hero of Ann Turner's Drummer Boy (HarperCollins, $15.89; ages 7-10) seems a born humanitarian. The youngest in his farming family, his father thinks he isn't " much use". When he goes to hear Lincoln speak, he connects with man and message; "His eyes stared at me right over the crowd, and I thought he was asking me to help him keep the country together." The amazing realistic illustration by Mark Hess pull the reader, like the boy, directly into the eyes of Lincoln. This young hero, who feels sorrow for slaves, living with no breathing room, and dogs sent after them "if they ever tried to get a bit of freedom", runs away to join the army. At enlistment both his youth and dedicatio are recognized and he's assigned the position of drummer boy. It seems like a grand adventure when practicing at camp, but during his first battle, the boy sees "men cut down like grain" and holds the hand of a soldier crying for his mother "until his eyes stopped seeing". The horrors of war convince the boy that when he goes home, he'll tell Mr. Lincoln how "his great, sad eyes made me go and see things no boy should ever see." The book holds discussion about the Civil War's cruelty to young boys and men, and how one particular boy, old beyond his years, sees the needs of others, and puts aside his own hurt to help them.
Eve Bunting's So Far from the Sea (Clarion, $15.00; ages 9 and up) is the story of Laura Iwasaki's last visit to her grandfather's grave at the Manzanar War Relocation Camp. It is also the story of her father and her grandfather's stay in that camp decades before. The story within the story is well-differentiated by the amazing talents of illustrator Chris Soentpiet whose style varies from black and white interpretations of the past, to the stark palette of the present setting which are occasionally highlighted by rich colors of the family's clothing. All illustrations carry an intensity of emotion that properly represents the story's feeling levels. Revealing this shameful bit of history in a way young readers can understand is a difficult enough mission, but Bunting goes beyond this charge. She shows us how Laura's rage at the injustice of the past is soothed by her father's sympathic frame of mind. "Sometimes in the end there is no right or wrong," he tells his daughter, "It is just a thing that happened long years ago. A thing that cannot be changed." And yet, having put those words in an older character's mouth, Bunting is a realist and knows change comes slowly. She shows us how Laura, still filled with an injustice-driven affinity for her grandfather and people, finds solace for herself by performing a symbolic action to right the wrongs of the past.
Prejudice and caring are important themes in Marybeth Lorbiecki's Sister Anne's Hands. (Dial, $15.99; ages 6-10) Anna, entering the second grade in the mid-Sixties, overhears her father worrying the night before school, "I don't know how a woman of her color is going to survive." Anna, who wonders if her new teacher will be purple, green or orange, is surprised, the next morning, to meet a nun with "skin darker than any person's" she's ever known. Her greater surprise is at the kindness, playfulness, and child-love so apparent in this woman. Unfortunately, one of her peers is not as captivated and sends a derogatory paper airplane sailing across the classroom. Laughter ensues, and Sister Anne, obviously upset, asks the children about their response. The room grows so quiet "you could have heard a butterfly sigh for the rest of the day." When the children return the next day, the room is lined with photos of black people "poor or dying, some hanging from trees, others shoot and bleeding." Sister Anne teaches "these are the colors of hatred" and "some folks have their hearts wide open and others are tight as a fist. The tighter they are, the more dangerous." As a result of her lesson, some children are pulled from the class. But Anna and others have the most wonderful learning year imaginable, and Anna's heart is touched by Sister Anne in a way she'll never forget. The illustrators' extensive investigations into icons of the sixties show clearly. The softness of their tones and realism of their form recreate the balance of the story's difficult message and lilting prose.
One out come of compassion is learning to get along together, despite differences. This is one of the primary describers of children's school job descriptions, and a difficult task to master at any age. These new books provide great examples.
Francisco Jimenez' La Mariposa (Houghton Mifflin, $16.00; ages 8 and up) should be required reading for older elementary children who are meeting students from other cultures. Children need to know the difficulties those from different cultures face, when they enter a school world alien to them, without language skills, or knowledge base to help them negotiate. The book was written and illustrated by two men who immigrated and worked in the fields of California. The book's strength reflects their experience.
Francisco starts first grade with the good wishes of his family, a helpful hint from his older brother, and confusion at a different language, new faces, and a routine he doesn't understand. The gaps give him headaches and a desire to "fly back" to his Papa in the fields. Francisco's interest is stimulated by what he can understand; observing a caterpillar that will become a butterfly and drawing what he sees around him. He can make no sense of the fact that biggest boy in class beats him and rips the jacket which the kind school principal has given him for warmth. By story's end, Francisco is involved class and has earned the understanding and empathy of his classmates. One of the things I so much appreciated in this book is Jimenez's weaving Spanish, without translation, through the text. Not only does this represent Francisco's character more truly, but it gives English-speaking readers a chance understand for the protaganist's trials.
Clifton Taulbert's Little Cliff and the Porch People (Dial, $15.99; ages 7-10) is a picture book based on the memories of the author. The story tells of a young boy being raised by grandparents. His talkative grandfather teaches him respect for his elders, stopping to speak to each person who sits on a porch waiting for conversation. This is difficult for shy Cliff, especially when he's sent on his first alone errand for his grandmother, who asks him not to stop, but hurry back with a missing ingredient for the candied sweet potatoes she'll cook in her "magic skillet" . Which grandparent should he obey? It's not a problem, for the "porch people" reach out to him, and when Cliff shares the mystery he feels about the magic ,each offers a little something to add to the treat. Returning home, Cliff is disappointed at the look of the ordinary black iron skillet, but by the book's end he understands the magic of smells that fill the house, transformation of the gathered ingredients, and the sense of community he grew by reaching out to those around him. The book offers much to talk about; Cliff's reaching beyond his own constraints, the individual characters and how they add to community, how a small boy's wondering can unite his neighbors, and sadly, how difficult this kind of caring is to find in present day.
Rosemary Wells has proved herself an outstanding creator of picture books. Her novella, Mary on Horseback: Three Mountain Stories (Dial, $16.99; ages 9 and up) shows her versatility as she brings creativity and word mastery into a longer work. Mary on Horseback was inspired by Mary Breckinridge, who trained as a nurse in WWI and plied her trade in the mountains of Kentucky, organizing a team of nurses to help the poor and underserved. Wells, inspired by Breckenridge's autobiography, does an incredible job of translating the story so it speaks strongly to children. The book is divided into three stories of separate people's view of how they who were influenced by Breckinridge's work. Two children are lifted from poverty and hopelessness, and a fellow nurse learns to trust her intuitions and interpret signs of need from people who are not always forthcoming with feelings and information. Part of the power of this novel comes from the stories themselves, another part from Wells' genius at turning history into story and a third part from giving a biography the beauty of words and voice that help its compassion touch others, just as Breckinridge's actions did long ago. This is a fabulous family read aloud.
Lack of compassion and its consequence is the theme of a classic Japanese folk tale retold by Odds Bodkin and elegantly illustrated by Gennady Spirin in The Crane Wife (HBJ, $16.00; ages 7 and up). The story tells of Osamu, a poor Japanese sail maker who one day rescues and heals a wounded crane. When beautiful, mysterious Yukiko shows up shivering on his doorstep after a storm, Osamu invites her in and falls desperately in love. The couple is happy until poverty threatens and it is then Yukiko cloisters herself, forbids Osamu to look at her, and weaves a magic sail for a great deal of money. When that money comes to an end, Osamu asks her to repeat her gift and she does so with reluctance and fear. Inspired by an offer for a lifetime's gold, Osamu asks a third time and his wife begs out for that the sails "take my very self". Osamu insists and in impatience for the project's completion, looks around the screen. He sees the crane he's saved from the storm weaving its feathers into the loom. The crane flies off and Osamu spends the rest of his life alone. Illustrations by Spirin do a marvelous job of portraying the tales antiquity, mystery and classic style.
After sharing Leo and Diane Dillon's To Every Thing There Is a Season with upper elementary students(Scholastic, $15.95), I am convinced its artistry and message of compassion will be most appreciated by adults. These two artists have taken the famous passage from Ecclesiastes and illustrated each couplet with a paintings to represent different places and periods of history, creating a whole that links all of humanity with the universality the message the Bible verse preaches.
Nina Bawden's Off the Road (Clarion, $16.00; ages 10 and up) is a futuristic look at family loyalty. The story begins when Tom follows his grandfather, Gandy, out a secret door when he escapes from a futuristic utopia. What Tom finds on the other side is shocking. Life is harsh and "oldies" are revered, instead of mocked; siblings abound; there are no frightening tree monsters; and he discovers hidden truths of his former existence that might even make the less perfect world preferable. Those who loved Lois Lowry's The Giver (Houghton Mifflin 14.95) will enjoy the contrasts and comparisons for Off the Road begins where The Giver left off. and he wonders by the story's end if the wall has been built to keep the barbarians outside, or the citizens of utopia inside. siblings abound I've found some of the hardest times to muster compassion for my children comes when their sulking. William Steig's books show he knows well the tenacious quality of pouting and he's got a solution. Pete's A Pizza (HarperCollins, $13.95; family sharing)! The parents in this book aren't put off or incensed by a child who self-indulgently grouses, they take action by turning him into a pizza. In a series of silly plays that just might work for the reading audience, Steig shows how taking "the dough" and kneading, whirling it in the air, and covering it with flour (talcum powder) makes for a happy pizza (or boy)! I wish I'd had this mood-changing book when my children were young...then again maybe it's never too late for a little pizza making!