The Magic of Children's Books

I read with interest an article in Macleans Magazine (a Canadian magazine akin to Time Magazine) about the power of children's books to heal adults in physical and psychological pain.

************************************

Adults turn to children’s books

‘There are lessons and hope in kids books, unlike self-help books’

by Rebecca Eckler on Saturday, October 26, 2013 8:00pm - 1 Comment

VIEW IN CLEAN READING MODE »

WHAT IS THIS ?  

Here at Maclean's, we appreciate the written word. And we appreciate you, the reader. We are always looking for ways to create a better user experience for you and wanted to try out a new functionality that provides you with a reading experience in which the words and fonts take centre stage. We believe you'll appreciate the clean, white layout as you read our feature articles. But we don't want to force it on you and it's completely optional. Click "View in Clean Reading Mode" on any article if you want to try it out. Once there, you can click "Go back to regular view" at the top or bottom of the article to return to the regular layout.

Photo illustration by Sarah MacKinnon

 

Recently, a well-known politician, 60, who has made scathing headlines for months, received a children’s picture book, Everything I Need To Know I Learned From a Little Golden Book, from a good friend. The book, drawn from the Golden Book series that was launched in 1942, is about finding contentment in the simplest things (“Be a hugger!” “Get some exercise!”). That evening, the politician sent a thank-you email, mentioning that the same day, another friend had emailed saying that a “great thing to do in times such as these is to find a childhood book and read it. So I’m reading my Little Golden Book.” The politician isn’t alone. These days, thanks to publishers bringing back vintage children’s picture books, more and more adults are turning to them, in the face of hardship, sorrow or stressful times.

 

Amanda Kelman, a philanthropist, had a three-month-old baby who died of a rare genetic disorder. She says, “About a year after my son passed away, a very good friend gave me the book The Heart and the Bottle by Oliver Jeffers. I had spent a lot of time at the hospital with my son and read him a lot of books. After he died, I did not want to read those books anymore.” (She can’t look at Robert Munsch’s Love You Forever.) “But The Heart and the Bottle, although for children,” says Kelman, “is incredible as it relates to anyone, of any age, who is grieving. It shows that it is okay to feel sad and put up barriers and literally ‘put your heart in a bottle.’ It’s [also] a reminder that it’s okay to find things that bring happiness.”

 

Barbara Miller, a therapist and social worker, recommends that adults turn to children’s books. “There are lessons and hope in kids books, unlike self-help books, where adults can find holes in the words.” For her clients who are grieving, she suggests a children’s book, The Mountain That Loved a Bird by Alice McLerran, a gentle tale of friendship, devotion and hope.

David Hayes, a freelance writer and editor, has numerous children’s books. When he was in a bicycle accident and in bed for months, barely able to move his arms, his girlfriend bought him Enid Blyton’s Noddy books, originally published between 1949 and 1963, about a little wooden boy who is a taxi driver. It’s a series he read as a child. “His horn went ‘parp, parp!’ ” says Hayes. “It always makes me smile when I remember that. These books are better than self-help books, because they are not instructional. They open you up and make you feel as innocent as a child. They cheer you up.”

 

Like Hayes, Tamara Leger, a freelance communications consultant and mother of two, has a go-to book from childhood. She adores the Just-Alike Princes by Pauline Palmer Meek. The book, she says, is “so old and the graphics so ’60s perfect, that they make me smile, no matter what.” She has parts memorized. “When I’m feeling particularly low, I reach back to children’s literature. It’s a place where the ideas are big and the words are simple and ring true. These books bring me back in time, then free me somehow to bubble up or step forward.”

 

Sarah Ramsey, who’s been in the book business for more than a decade and now works part-time at Book City in Toronto, says she always goes to Matilda when she’s sad. “It’s a total cliché but I didn’t fit in as a child and the isolation I felt was awful and sometimes I still feel that way.” When she rereads Matilda, it reminds her that Matilda had a champion in Miss Honey. “As an adult we know there’s not always a happy ending, but I’m drawn to the story because it comforts me.”

 

Barb Wiseberg, co-founder of Give One Book, a children’s book bank, says her favourite children’s book is Hippos Go Berserk! by Sandra Boynton. It was also her son’s favourite baby book. Fast-forward 12 years. “We are planning his bar mitzvah, and I keep a copy with all my notes, to keep perspective on how time flies.” Erica Ehm, founder of YummyMummyClub.ca, sees a similar reminder in one of her favourite children’s books. She says she always turns to Love You Forever. “Sometimes life just punches you in the face. This book just reminds me, point blank, to live in the moment.” The simple truths, it seems, bear repeating.

 

******************

 

Now obviously, I am a writer of children's and young adult books, so the article struck quite a chord with me.  But even if I wasn't a writer, the article would still strike a chord.

 

I harkened back to the week I sat with my Mum as she lay dying twelve years ago, supported and cared for by the Betsy-Tacy series.  The Betsy-Tacy books were like slipping into a warm bath for me; surrounded by the loving Ray family, I felt that I was gathering strength for what lay ahead.

 

When my Dad died last November, on the last afternoon of his life I read him A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas.  That story, of naughty boys and funny peculiar families who get together at Christmastime despite their differences and because of ties that run deeper than reason, felt like just the cozy and nostalgic thing for both he and I on this last day together. 

 

I suspect it is the reason that someday my son will want to read Apple Tree Christmas and The Hobbit, long after I'm gone and for reasons that have nothing to do with a good story.  Or my daughter will find those old Enid Blyton Adventure books and curl up some afternoon and feel as safe as if she was in the arms of the angels.  For she will be.

 

I read recently (though I can't recall where), that the books we read when we are between the ages of 9 and 12 years of age have the most profound impact on us.  For middle grade writers, our writing feels like sacred ground.  I imagine that someday (god-willing!) some grown up will say "Do you remember those Pig-Face books?" and laugh out loud, remembering not only a good story, but a warm house, a cozy bed, parents still alive, siblings still around.   That is a darn good reason to write a book...

 

Then I would be slap-dashing home, the gravy smell of the dinners of others, the bird smell, the brandy, the pudding and mince, coiling up to my nostrils, when out of a snow-clogged side lane would come a boy the spit of myself, with a pink-tipped cigarette and the violet past of a black eye, cocky as a bullfinch, leering all to himself.

A Child's Christmas in Wales

 

In honour of this wonderful story, how about a lovely brandy cocktail for Miller Time Friday?

 

Brandy Cocktail

Ingredients:

• 2 oz brandy
• 1/2 oz orange curacao liqueur
• 2 dashes Angostura bitters
• 2 dashes Peychaud's bitters
• Lemon peel for garnish

Preparation:

1. Pour the ingredients into a cocktail shaker filled with ice.
2. Shake well.
3. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
4. Garnish with a lemon peel.

How about you?  Do you have favourite children's books that you turn to for comfort as an adult?  I would love to hear about them!

Have a wonderful Friday and stay safe out there!