Gratitute

Those who scoff at children's literature lack a refined sense of literacy. True, there are garbage children's books; Just as true is the fact that there's the same amount, no, there's more of garbage adult literature.

I found this book awhile back.

Yep, it's a children's book of the most refined nature. I love the author. In the past, I'd foregone many opportunities to enjoy her books because the cover art typically had a lack of appeal, for my taste. You could say that I scoffed at them, possibly included judgments of "Looks like garbage". At any rate, I eventually ended up reading one of Baylor's (author) books and was dumb-struck-awed by the quality of writing. Baylor is an all-around first-rate writer and storyteller who doesn't even need illustrations for her work to reach the status of "perfection". For sure I'd buy her books without a single illustration. She's a master, a Yoda in her own right.

So, Thanksgiving season is happening at your household? This recently discovered Baylor book is so harmonious in timing for the festivities and good feelings. It couldn't be more perfect. I'm thinking you might like it (the book, but I'm sure you'll like the season with all its entrails too).

It all starts when a girl who is unsatisfied with her family's income and economic standing takes matters into her own hands. That sober girl sets her family down at the kitchen table to council her parents on the matter. And with that intro, here's a few excerpts to finish it off...

No wonder

I had to call this meeting

about money.

Can you believe

my father is

sitting here

looking me straight in the eye

and saying,

“But, Mountain Girl,

I though you knew

how rich we are.”

I say,

“We can’t get very far

in this discussion

if you won't even admit

that we’re poor.”

(Hey, it's me with another little two cents. From this point the mother talks about how rich they are in ways other then money. End two cents.)

But I say,

“Can’t you give me

one single number

to write down

on this paper?”

So we start with

twenty thousand dollars.

That’s how much

my father says

it’s worth to him

to work outdoors,

where he can see sky

all day and feel the wind

and smell rain

an hour before

it’s really raining.

...

So that makes

four million

and fifty-five thousand dollars.

Finally,

my brother says

to put down

seven dollars more

for all the nights

we get to sleep

outside

under the stars.

We all say

seven dollars

doesn't seem to be

enough.

We talk him into

making it

five thousand.

So there you have a brief, brief clipping of a delicious masterpiece. Isn't is so poetic? There's more in the story but I can't give it all away! Now, I don't think I can recommend it any more highly then I've been going on about, so I'll be signing off.

Thanksgiving, here we come...