Classics, Nonfiction, and Children's Literature
Our Friend Hedgehog: The Story of Us by Lauren Castillo (Knopf, 2020) is a delightful early chapter book telling the story of a few friends (stuffed animals? real animals?) and their human told through words and pictures. With larger print and whole-page and half-page illustrations, the story is very accessible to young early readers. The
I Must Have Bobo! by Ellen Rosenthal and illustrated by Marc Rosenthal (Atheneum, January 2011) tells of a child’s connection with his an imaginary friend stuffed animal! Young Willy wakes up only to find that his dear sock monkey Bobo is missing! He is found, much to Willy’s relief, as the boy cannot get through
The Snowman by Raymond Briggs (published 1978) is a wordless picture book capturing the creation and life of another best-friend snowman. The unnamed boy spends hours making his snowman perfect, then in the night has hours of adventures. With some prompting, my son can tell me the story, and each time it’s a little different, which
Sneezy the Snowman by Maureen Wright (illustrated by Stephen Gilpin; published 2010) is a new winter favorite. We’ve all heard of Frosty, but how many know about Sneezy? He just can’t stop his sniffles, so the children try to help him. But every time, he gets too warm, and must call out from the puddle of
Frosty the Snowman, illustrated by Richard Cowdrey (published 1993), provides the words to the familiar song with beautiful, large illustrations. I particularly dislike the movie and the Little Golden Book for Frosty the Snowman. (Particularly, I don’t like the little girl hopping on a train car with a snowman bit…) But my son loves the story,
Snow by Uri Shulevitz (published 1998) is a magical snow day book. In the midst of a gray world, a little boy sees a snowflake. He calls out, “Snow!” but the adults in the town disbelieve him, apparently hoping he is wrong. By the end, the snow has covered the town and the boy is dancing
Whenever I see a copy of Winnie-the-Pooh in a store, on a shelf, anywhere, really, I pick it up and hold it. I flip the pages. I pause over the pictures (whether they are in color or not). I wish I could own it. But why? I already own a lovely hardcover in color (along
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