Tag: Preschool (page 19 of 30)

August 12, 2016 / 6 Comments

The Quiltmaker’s Gift

One doesn’t go looking for beautiful children’s books in a mortgage lender’s office, but that is where I found this one. We were there to get approved for our first homeowner’s loan, and while we waited for our appointment, I scanned the heap of outdated financial magazines for a copy of People (alas! I cannot resist the pull of People). I found, instead, The Quiltmaker’s Gift.

And so, as my husband second-guessed the wisdom of buying a home so old it once had an outhouse, I disappeared into a lovely fable about a quiltmaker who lived atop the blue misty mountains. She made quilts whose “blue seemed to come from the deepest parts of the ocean, the whites from the northernmost snows, the greens and purples from the abundant wildflowers, the reds, oranges, and pinks from the most wonderful sunsets.” She created her quilts not for profit or fame, but to give to the poor and homeless.

When the king demanded that she make a gift of one of her quilts to him, the quiltmaker told him that, to earn one of her quilts, he must give away everything he owned. “With each gift that you give,” she said,” I’ll sew in another piece. When at last all your things are gone, your quilt will be finished.”

In The Quiltmaker’s Gift, I saw the story of the rich young ruler the way I wish it had turned out (and still hope, in time, that it did turn out). Gail de Marken’s illustrations are vibrant and detailed, with another story tucked into the quilt’s patterns that give hints as to what happens next. Her style and those details suit the story of the king’s struggle and transformation beautifully.

Finding this book that day in the bank was timely. Finding it on the shelf at our library this summer was timely too, as I was in the mood for something lovely to read on a blanket in the backyard. Perhaps I’ll even pull out an old quilt for the occasion.

The Quiltmaker’s Gift
Jeff Brumbeau, Gail de Marken (2001)

July 22, 2016 / 0 Comments

The Storm That Stopped

I can’t pinpoint the moment when I fell for this—was it the illustration of the disciples pulling their boat out into the sea?

Their expressions during the storm?

Or was it only at the end, when Mitchell brought the story to its beautiful conclusion, that I knew I’d fallen whole-heartedly in love with The Storm That Stopped?

I can’t say. But the book became one of my favorites to read aloud almost immediately.

What Scripture presents as a fairly simple narrative, Alison Mitchell shares with the energy of a good bedtime story. She tells not only what happened but why it was important: When Jesus calmed the storm with just a few words, what did it mean? What did that tell the disciples about who Jesus is? After reading the book, my husband said, “It’s a little like a sermon,” meaning that Mitchell doesn’t stop at telling the story, but goes one step further and tells us what the story is about.

Catalina Echeverri’s illustrations add yet another layer to the story and, if I’m perfectly honest, are what really got to me. You’ve seen her work already in The Garden, the Curtain and the Cross, but she is at her best when illustrating the disciples: she shows how genuinely frightening it must have been to face the storm, but she does it in a way that is funny and endearing. My daughters and I giggled quite a bit over the disciples’ response to the storm, but a few short pages later, I found myself tearing up again—this time not from laughter but from wonder.

Mitchell and Echeverri make a marvelous team and I am glad, because this isn’t their only book together. I’m already itching to read the others!

The Storm That Stopped
Alison Mitchell, Catalina Echeverri (2016)

The Garden, the Curtain and the Cross, by Carl Laferton | Little Book, Big Story

July 1, 2016 / 7 Comments

The Garden, the Curtain & the Cross

There are some trends I can’t get behind, like jeggings and cookie dough dip. But I do see a trend emerging that I can fully endorse: for a while, we’ve had some stellar story bibles that treat Scripture as one big story (The Jesus Storybook Bible; The Big Picture Story Bible), but lately, I’ve noticed more and more picture books that try to capture some aspect of Scripture’s big story. Some tackle the entire arc of Scripture (The Biggest Story); others focus on a few crucial books of the Bible (Miracle Man).

These have, so far, been beautifully illustrated. And so far, they’ve all been awesome.

The Garden, the Curtain and the Cross is another stunning example of a book that distills the big story of Scripture down into a potent dozen or so pages, so kids can read through the main arc of Scripture’s story in one sitting. Carl Laferton uses the curtain that separated the Israelites from the Holy of Holies, the part of the temple where God lived, to illustrate the effect that the Fall had on our relationship with God. Throughout the book, a simple refrain crops up:

Because of your sin, you can’t come in

Aided by Catalina Echeverri’s colorful illustrations, Laferton explains how that separation happened (the garden), what it was like while it lasted (the curtain), and how it ended (the Cross).

On my first read-through, though, I must confess that I thought the story has been simplified a little too much. But when I reached the end and saw what Laferton had been building toward, I realized that, no, that simplicity was just right. And when I read it aloud to my daughters, the story came alive.

Because of your sin, you can’t come in

Like an unresolved chord, that refrain hangs unfinished throughout the story, until the last note—the note of Christ’s suffering on our behalf—joins in:

Because of your sin, you can’t come in,
but I died on the cross to take your sin . . .
So all my friends can now come in!

The story resolves beautifully. Our story resolves beautifully. And we simply cannot hear that good news enough.

The Garden, the Curtain and the Cross
Carl Laferton, Catalina Echeverri (2016)

June 3, 2016 / 8 Comments

Miracle Man

I imagine reviewers for large publications opening white-covered galley copies of newly released books, their minds empty of expectation. I imagine—wrongly, I hope—that they read with a sort of professionalism, exploring major themes and images with an air of detachment, and I laugh. Because I enjoy being a highly-biased reviewer: I get to dive whole-heartedly into a book by a beloved author, announcing to myself as I do so, “I want to love this book.”

If I know nothing about the author, then it’s usually the illustrations that provoke this longing in me: a beautifully illustrated book makes me desperately want the story to do them justice.

Such was the case with Miracle Man.

I wanted so badly to love John Hendrix’s book—the cover alone was persuasive—and oh, dear reader, I do. I love it. I love Miracle Man so much that I bumped it up eight spots on my publishing schedule just so I could share it with you immediately.

Miracle Man follows the life of Jesus through his miracles, showing an interpretation of who he was as an incarnated man that fits well with Scripture but creatively reveals aspects of how his nature as the Son of God may have overflowed the bounds of humanity. Hendrix renders Jesus’ words as part of the illustrations, not part of the text, so everything Jesus says arrests your eyes and causes you dwell on every letter of every word. He made the deliberate choice to portray Jesus himself and infuses the illustrations with details that (I’m not ashamed to admit it) made me cry because they are so awe-inspiring.

My favorite example:

Jesus’ footsteps are filled with live, growing things, as though the sole of his foot is so infused with life that its imprint causes the earth to burst into flower out of season.

Yes, I wanted to love this book. I wanted to so badly that I would have overlooked some slightly lackluster prose for the sake of those stunning illustrations, but I didn’t have to. There was nothing lackluster to overlook.

And now, I want desperately to love every other book Hendrix has written.

Miracle Man
John Hendrix (2016)

Baby Wren and the Great Gift, by Sally Lloyd-Jones | Little Book, Big Story

May 27, 2016 / 2 Comments

Baby Wren & the Great Gift

A new book by Sally Lloyd-Jones is always something to celebrate, but when the new book is itself a celebration—even better! Baby Wren and the Great Gift follows the story of Baby Wren, who admires the gifts of the other creatures in the canyon around her and wonders what she can do that’s wonderful, too. By the end of the story, she has her answer, and in the process, gives one of the most stirring examples of worship I’ve read.

The repetition in this story is lovely—rhythmic, musical, but not mind-numbing to read aloud—and all three of my older daughters (ages 2-8) loved the book. Jen Corace’s illustrations (you may recognize her work from Little Pea or many other lovely books) are gorgeous, too.

So. Baby Wren and the Great Gift is a beautiful book.

But it is also an example of how an author, while introducing a truth to children, may bring that same truth out to meet parents—parents who sorely needed this reintroduction—again. As Baby Wren looks admiringly on the gifts given to kingfishers, sunfish, and ring-tailed cats (but not to canyon wrens), I found myself thinking of the many ways that adults do this:

Look at how gentle you are with your children, how kindly you answer their questions.

Look at how bold you are, talking to strangers about the gospel.

Look at how clean your home is, how ready you are to welcome people into your life!

And we ask, like Baby Wren, Why can’t I do those things too? This simple story has for its foundation a deeper truth, one that can bear the weight of adults as well as children, and I found myself challenged as I read this one with my children (again and again—did I mention they loved it?) to admire the gifts that God has given those around me—in our church body, in our neighborhood and in our family—and to look again at how to use well the gifts he’s given me.

That is one of the things I love about Sally Lloyd-Jones’ books: her ability to connect with parents as well as children, without weighing the story down with a moral or aiming jokes at the parents that soar over the children’s heads. If you’ve read her best-known work, The Jesus Storybook Bible, then you’ve seen this ability in action. Baby Wren and the Great Gift is another beautiful example of Lloyd-Jones using the gifts she’s been given to do something beautiful—to fill families with song.

Baby Wren and the Great Gift
Sally Lloyd-Jones, Jen Corace (2016)

Tag: Preschool (page 19 of 30)

The Quiltmaker’s Gift

The Storm That Stopped

The Garden, the Curtain & the Cross

Miracle Man

Baby Wren & the Great Gift

Welcome

Browse

Policies

Blogroll