Wednesday, November 3, 2010


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.

my brother says
to put down
seven dollars more
for all the nights
we get to sleep
under the stars.

We all say
seven dollars
doesn't seem to be
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...

1 comment:

  1. Very poetic indeed. And congrats on the (almost) new job!! You are great.