Maya Soetoro-Ng, illustrated by Yuyi Morales,
Ladder to the Moon
Candlewick Press, 2011.

Ages 4 and up

“What was Grandma Annie like?” young Suhaila asks her mother about the grandmother she never met.  “Full, soft, and curious,” her mother replies.  “Your grandma would wrap her arms around the whole world if she could.”

For children who never had the opportunity to meet a cherished grandparent, the absence of that influential figure becomes a presence in their lives, intensifying the feelings their own parents have about their loss.  “Becoming a parent made me think of my own mother with both intense grief and profound gratitude,” writes Maya Soetoro-Ng in a note following the text of Ladder to the Moon. “I wished that my mother and my daughter could have known and loved each other. I hoped that I could teach Suhaila some of the many things I learned as I grew up witnessing my mother’s extraordinary compassion and empathy.”  In the case of Soetoro-Ng and her daughters, the grandmother in question has intrigued many people around the world as she is also the mother of U.S. President Barack Obama, Soetero-Ng’s older half-brother.

Since the beginning of the Obama campaign, journalists and politicians have wondered and written about this mysterious and unconventional woman, Stanley Ann Dunham, who died in 1995.  There is no question that she, a noted anthropologist and often single mother, had an enormous influence on the lives of her children and thus on history itself.  Her daughter’s dream story about the young Suhaila meeting her grandmother comes from a personal, family perspective that will resonate with any child in such a situation, as well as giving adult readers a new insight into this enigmatic figure.

Grandma Annie encourages Suhaila to use each of her five senses to reach out to the rest of the world. Together they find people in trouble: trembling in earthquakes, trying to outswim Tsunamis, and praying for peace.  Annie and Suhaila reach down from the moon to offer their solace and comfort as they bring these people up, making the moon brighter for all to see.

Yuyi Morales’ stunning illustrations bring diverse people together to share and connect on the moon.  In one scene, they tell stories around a campfire, each with a glowing circle of words around her head.  These lines, pulled from traditional narratives and the personal stories of Morales’ friends, represent six languages and four different alphabets.

Above all, Soetoro-Ng says of her mother, she was a storyteller.  Those stories have been the inspiration for much of the author’s own life; and with a story, she and Morales honor this posthumously famous woman in a deeply personal yet universal way.

Abigail Sawyer
December 2011

Several of author and illustrator Leyla Torres‘ picture books hone in on the relationship between children and their grandparents and we are delighted to welcome her to PaperTigers with some memories of her own grandmother especially. Take a look also at our Gallery featuring Leyla’s work, in which you can see illustrations from Saturday Sancocho, The Kite Festival and Liliana’s Grandmothers (all published by Farrar, Straus & Giroux and available in English and Spanish). Visit Leyla’s website and blog (also, don’t miss out on her amazing origami blogs, old and new…).

Outdoor Markets, My Grandmother and Me

My book Saturday Sancocho was inspired by my love of outdoor markets in Latin America and also as a tribute to my paternal grandparents, whose names were the same as the characters in the book, Ana and Angelino.

As a child, I went with my grandmother to the outdoor market in her town many times. To be honest, at that time I disliked it because of the large amount of time it took her asking for discounts and haggling with vendors under the hot tropical sun.

Despite this, I grew up to love visiting outdoor markets, and I always remember my grandmother with pride and appreciation. She was a very strong-willed country woman who raised nine children and motivated them to study and succeed. Without her vision, none in the family would have explored distant horizons, which have turned out to be rewarding for all.

Leyla Torres

Janet Costa Bates, illustrated by Lambert Davis,
Seaside Dream
Lee and Low Books, 2010.

Ages 5-10

When the whole family comes together for Grandma’s 70th birthday, it’s a time of joy and celebration. Yet underneath the smiles granddaughter Cora, who lives next door, is feeling anxious about what present to give her precious Grandma, and about missing out on their own special time together. And Grandma is hiding a deep yearning for her sister Aura, whom she hasn’t seen for nearly forty years, since emigrating from Cape Verde to the United States.

Seaside Dream, inspired by author Janet Costa Bates’ own grandmother and her Cape Verdean roots, takes these two strands of narrative and entwines them within the whole family’s encircling love. Grandma understands Cora’s concerns intuitively, and Cora’s youthful optimism is just what Grandma needs to bolster her spirits as she talks about why she left Cape Verde but Aura stayed behind. Grandma explains how she has kept close to Aura by sending her non-verbal mantenhas (explained in a short glossary as a “greeting sent with people travelling between Cape Verde and the United States, essential for keeping relationships strong between family and friends separated by distance”). That night, Cora dreams about the two sisters and wakes up on Grandma’s birthday knowing exactly what to give her. Her thoughtful gift is, of course, perfect and opens up all sorts of possibilities for the future.

Seaside Dream was a worthy winner of a Lee & Low New Voices Award Honor and the story has been further enhanced on publication by Lambert Davis’ illustrations, which perfectly convey the happy, relaxed sharing of the family get-together and the empathy between Grandma and Cora in particular. The blues of the sea and sky and the yellow of the sand are reflected in the interiors too, giving the whole book a welcoming feel that that draws readers into the celebrations. It is noteworthy that we don’t actually meet Cora’s parents in the course of the story, meaning there is no distraction from the focus on the grandmother-granddaughter relationship. An Author’s Note also provides some historical and personal background to the book, opening up the possibility of similar discussion – both in terms of immigration and grandparents’ roots. In the meantime, Cora and Grandma’s love for each other will spill over from the story to warm readers’ hearts.

Marjorie Coughlan
June 2011

Continuing our Authors Remember Their Grandparents series, today we welcome author and illustrator Yuyi Morales to PaperTigers with a poignant piece about her Grandpa Felix.

Yuyi’s most recent book is Ladder to the Moon, written by Maya Soetoro-Ng (Candlewick Press/Walker Books, 2011). It is the story of a little girl Suhaila whose wish that she could know her grandmother is granted one night, when a golden ladder appears with Grandma Annie, ready to take her up to the moon. Read more about the book on Yuyi’s website, and take a look at the first few pages here - gorgeous!

This is not the first time Yuyi has depicted a grandmother by any means – there is her rosy-cheeked Abuelita with hair “the color of salt” in the exuberant My Abuelita written by Tony Johnston, our current Book of the Month on the main PaperTigers website (Harcourt Children’s Books, 2009). And there are her own picture books starring Señor Calavera – Just a Minute: A Trickster Tale and Counting Book (Chronicle Books, 2003) and Just in Case: A Trickster Tale and Alphabet Book (Roaring Brook Press, 2008): we are big fans of both of them in our household and love Señor Calavera’s website.

Visit Yuyi’s PaperTigers Gallery, enjoy her wonderful interview/gasp at the images over at 7-Imp’s, and find out about all her books and her many projects on her website and blog.

Grandpa Felix

My white dress of crochet clusters like popcorn, mama made especially for me.
She also made the wings and a halo with antennas, and painted with powder my cheeks, and when I saw myself in the mirror I was a butterfly.
At school I fluttered like I was supposed to do, I ran in a circle and flapped my arms with my wings behind. But nobody looked at me.
Everybody was too busy watching the pretty white girl flap her transparent arms and shake her chamomile washed hair.
Even mama, her swollen eyes straight at me, was looking somewhere else.
Nobody cares to watch the brown that is me.
Just like nobody wants to play with a girl with baby shoes that fit the insole inside and hold my leg right so that some day I can have straight feet.
“Mama, those shoes with the golden buckle and the bow on top are so lovely,” I have been telling her every time we pass by the glass case of the shoe store.
But mama doesn’t say much anymore.
She must be tired of repeating what I already know. That I have to stick with these ugly baby shoes until… when? Until I am a grown up.
Clipity, clap, clipity, clap, went my shoes while we left school.
Pling, plong, pling, plong, went my mama’s eye tears while we walked down the street. To Grandpa Felix’s house.
He is my abuelo because mama told me so. But he doesn’t remember me.
I know it because the other day when our teacher took us to the park, and my grandpa was sitting in a chair outside his door with a red and green blanket around him, and I waved at him thinking, “Now, look, everybody, there is my grandpa waving back to me,” and all the other kids waved too because they didn’t know he was my grandpa Felix – only mine, grandpa kept waving and smiling to all the children, just the same as to me.
He doesn’t remember me, I know.
Mama told me once, that sometimes he doesn’t remember her either, even though she is his child. “How could he?” she explained, “He’s too old to be one hundred and four and remember about so many things.”
Then, that morning, while I was a butterfly, Grandpa Felix stopped remembering no more. In her eyes, my mother’s tears going pling, plong, pling, plong.

Yuyi Morales

In Part 1 of her Guest Post for our current theme of Children and their Grandparents, author Swapna Dutta described the importance to Bengali children of the tales collected by Dakshinaranjan Mitra-Mazumdar. Here in Part 2, Swapna retells one of those stories for us. It comes from perhaps the most famous of Mitra-Mazumdar’s books, Thakurmar Jhuli (Paternal Grandma’s Bag of Stories):

Saat Bhai Champa / Seven Champak Brothers

LONG, long ago there lived a king who had seven queens but no children. So he was delighted when he came to know that the seventh queen was going to have a baby.

The queen had octuplets: seven little boys and a little girl. But the other six queens were terribly jealous. They stole the babies while the seventh queen was still unconscious and buried them in the ash-heap. Then they told her that she had given birth to crabs and showed her some. The queen was too heartbroken to protest and thought that someone had cursed her with such a terrible fate. The news reached the king. “The seventh queen must be a witch.” He said, “Throw her out of the kingdom!”

Something strange happened soon after. The birds stopped singing. The flowers stopped blooming. And what was worst, there were no flowers to worship the deity in the royal temple. Everyone scoured the kingdom for flowers. Finally someone discovered seven champaks and a camellia blooming on the ash-heap. “Get them!” said the king, “And I’ll reward you.”

But it proved to be an impossible task. As soon as anyone tried to pick them they shot up higher, out of reach, and sang in a sweet chorus:

“You can’t touch us –
Oh no, oh no!
Let the first queen come.
To her, we’ll go!”

The king sent for the first queen. She turned pale and remembered what she had done at the ash-heap. The flowers shot up higher and asked for the second queen. The second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth queens all came and went. None of them could touch the flowers. The flowers now asked for the king. But he could not get them either. The flowers shot up even higher and sang,

“You can’t touch us–
Oh no, oh no!
Let the seventh queen come.
And to HER, we’ll go!”

“Find the seventh queen!” ordered the king. “Find her at any cost!”

The king’s men scattered far and wide, searching for the queen and found her in the forest, lonely and miserable. They took her back to the palace and to the ash-heap. As soon as the flowers saw her, the seven champaks and the camellia tumbled down from the tree top, crying, “Mother! Mother!” as they fell into her arms.

But they were flowers no longer. The seven champaks had turned into seven handsome princes and the camellia into a beautiful princess. The king soon heard the story and punished the six guilty queens by banishing them from the kingdom. Suddenly the entire garden was full of flowers again. And the birds started singing. And every one lived happily ever after.

Retold by Swapna Dutta

You will also find a longer retelling of Seven Champaks to read/listen to in Begali with an English translation alongside, at Galpo Boli Shono, a fun website for children to immerse themselves in Bengali stories, puzzles and songs. We’re grateful to Galpo Boli Shono for their permission to reproduce some of their gorgeous illustrations by Tarit Bhattacharjee here, to accompany Swapna’s retelling of the story.

Taruja Parande,
My Grandfather, Aajoba
Tulika, 2010.

Ages 5-8

A granddaughter’s tribute to her beloved grandfather, My Grandfather, Aajoba invites young readers to share in the very special bond portrayed, and perhaps to refer it to their own lives. The book’s author Taruja Parande has created a portrait of her grandfather through a series of anecdotes set off by illustrations that are an effective and attractive blend of photographic collage and original artwork.

Each double-page spread presents a different chapter in Parande and Aajoba’s relationship, with extra, playful asides, such as inviting readers to “flick a bunch of these pages quickly to hear the flapping of pigeons’ wings”. The book begins with pages from both an old and a more recent photograph album. The overlaid narrative conveys a contrasting description of Aajoba as a “tough” young man (“everyone was afraid of him. He was afraid of nobody.”) and as a “lovable” old man (“He was amused by everything I did […] I was never afraid of him”). From then on, the visual and verbal narratives both revolve around the grandfather and his grandchild – from Aajoba’s recipe for buttered toast, illustrated photographically step by step; through activities such as attempting to wash the cat or evading homework; to stamp albums and lists. A chapter is also dedicated to “the secret” – how Aajoba and Aaji met. Here the tone of secrecy is perfect for young readers and it is easy to imagine delighted, conspiratorial giggles at this point: after all, isn’t this just the kind of family story children love to hear?

Although the perspective is clearly that of an adult looking back and remembering, the matter-of-fact tone never drifts into nostalgia. The narrative is past tense so most young readers will know, even if it’s subconsciously, that Aajoba is no longer alive. In fact, this would be a special book to read with children coping with the loss of a grandparent. And it would also come as no surprise to find that after reading My Grandfather, Aajoba young readers set about creating their own grandparent storybooks: for not only does this delightful book draw readers into the solid reality of the relationship portrayed, but it also provides space for those readers’ own imaginations to come into play.

Marjorie Coughlan
May 2011

For our current focus on children and their grandparents, we have invited authors and illustrators who have written children’s books that center on that special relationship to share with us some of their own personal memories of their grandparents. Over the next few weeks we will be posting these pieces here on the blog – and I can promise you, we’re all in for a real treat.

Our first piece comes from author Andrea Cheng, who says, “Many of my books have to do with the relationship between grandparents and grandchildren (Grandfather Counts, Goldfish and Chrysanthemums, Shanghai Messenger, Only One Year, The Key Collection). Most of these stories in some way reflect the relationship I had with my grandparents, particularly with my paternal grandmother.”

One of my favorites of Andrea’s books is Where the Steps Were, her novel in verse about a class of inner-city 3rd graders, which also references grandparents. Do watch Andrea’s short but inspiring video documentary, which shares what “a group of 3rd graders can do with just one book.” Andrea’s latest book is the newly released Where Do You Stay? (Boyd’s Mill Press). Read our 2008 interview with Andrea here, and visit her website here.

Memories of My Grandparents

My family immigrated to the US from Hungary in installments. My immediate family came first, and then my grandparents, and later my aunt, uncle, and cousin. When I was very small, we all lived together. Later my grandparents got their own apartment just behind our house. I loved going to visit them and was allowed to walk there by myself. Grandma spoiled me with my favorite palacsintas (walnut and sugar filled crepes) She let me eat them before dinner and never seemed worried that I would spoil my appetite.

Sometimes I was allowed to spend the night with my grandparents. My grandmother fixed me a special bed on the floor that I called a nest, and we played there for at least an hour before bed. She sang me Hungarian nursery rhymes, which I still know, and let me play with her plastic pop together beads. She taught me to sew clothes for my dolls. My grandfather told me stories until finally I fell asleep.

When I was about eight, my grandparents moved from Cincinnati to Chicago to join my aunt. I was heartbroken. The feelings described in The Key Collection come from this early separation.

My husband’s parents immigrated to the US from China in 1949. Unfortunately he was never able to meet any of his grandparents. Luckily my grandmother, who lived until age 95, very happily took on the role of being my husband’s adopted grandmother. Grandma knew very little about her ancestry, but she looked Asian (perhaps Mongolian since the Mongols came through Hungary centuries ago) so many people assumed she was my husband’s grandmother, not mine!

Andrea Cheng

Thank you, Andrea.

I am including this post in this week’s Poetry Friday, which is hosted by Reading Tub’s Family bookshelf – I’ll add the link later as I’m having some difficulties conecting right now…

There is something special about grandparents sharing stories with their grandchildren, especially when those stories come from their own lives (though young children can be disconcerting in their definition of the olden days and their grandparents place in them…). Over the next few weeks, I will be highlighting books that draw young children into that special bond through stories narrated by grandmothers from around the world.

Whereas many anthologies of traditional stories can be dipped into and individual stories extracted at random, I recommend several bedtimes in a row be spent immersed in Frances Carpenter’s Tales of a Korean Grandmother and Tales of a Chinese Grandmother (both published by Tuttle). Although subtitled as 30 and 32 Traditional Tales respectively, they are much more than that. The stories emerge from the daily lives of the Ling family in China and the Kim family in Korea as the two grandmothers tell their grandchildren stories arising out of events and traditions or objects around them. Black and white vignettes and full-page illustrations are scattered through the books, with Malthe Hasselriis as the named illustrator of Tales of a Chinese Grandmother.

In Korea, we join the Kim family and become friends especially with Ok Cha and her brother Yung Tu; in China we meet Ah Shung and his sister Yu Lang, and the rest of the Ling household. Both grandmothers are deeply loved and respected, and have a wealth of stories to tell and retell – and the time to tell them. Young readers/listeners will be just as interested in the children’s antics as in the stories themselves.

The books were first published some 70 years ago and have lost none of their appeal in the intervening years – indeed, much of their attraction to today’s audience, whether younger children sharing the stories as a readaloud or older children reading the book alone, must be the blend of historical detail combined with the magic and fantasy contained within the stories themselves. Through the device of telling stories within a narrative, today’s readers/listeners are more readily drawn into their cultural contexts and the warmth of the bond between the grandmother and her grandchildren is the thread which brings all these stories together.

Over the last couple of months we have been gathering together a children’s literature feast from Mongolia: for, as Dashdondog Jamba, writer and founder of Mongolia’s Mobile Children’s Library puts it, “After eating candies there remains nothing. But after reading a book you will have it in your head.”

You will find:

…an interview with Dashdondog Jamba -

“I think that one of the most effective ways to ensure the availability of books translated into one’s own language is through direct contact with foreign authors. We have translated many books in this way. I translate books in the hope that children in different countries will meet each other and become close friends.”

- as well as the reprint of an article he wrote for Bookbird and a review of his recent book Mongolian Folktales;

…an interview with Dori Jones Yang, in which she talks about her recent YA novel, Daughter of Xanadu and more -

“The main message is that it’s important to get to know foreigners. In every country, in every era, it’s easy to slip into an ‘us-vs.-them’ mentality, to look on ‘them’ as sub-human so that we can wage war on them. But when you get to know someone from a faraway country as a human being with hopes and dreams, your worldview shifts. By learning how others see the world, you come to understand yourself and your own people better, and war no longer seems like a sensible option.”

…a peek at the fruits of the collaboration between award-winning artists/writers Ted and Betsy Lewin in our Gallery, including images from their book Horse Song: The Naadam of Mongolia (Lee & Low Books, 2008);

…Personal View “Taking a step into children’s books about Mongolia” by Marjorie Coughlan

…revisits to Bolormaa Baasansuren’s interview and Gallery; and to Helen Mixter’s Personal View

Our new theme for the coming weeks will be Children and their Grandparents – we have already begun our focus on books which explore this joyful, enriching relationship through our Week-end Book Reviews (a new, regular feature on our blog); in the coming weeks look out for authors and illustrators sharing some special moments with their own grandparents, as well as a Personal View from Swapna Dutta, who shares insight into Bengali writer Dakshinaranjan Mitra-Mazumdar’s story collections…

Come walk with us along the road of special stories from around the world – and maybe share some of your own memories with us along the way.

Maya Ajmera, Sheila Kinkade, Cynthia Pon; Foreword by Archbishop Desmond Tutu,
Our Grandparents: A Global Album
The Global Fund for Children/Charlesbridge Publishing, 2010.

Ages 5-8

Yeye. Babushka. Deda. Oma. What better way to celebrate our common humanity than to honor the love of our grandparents? As Archbishop Desmond Tutu writes, “In our role as elders, we help bridge the present with the past… We make sure that the wisdom of our ancestors is passed on to the next generation.” In Our Grandparents: A Global Album, the authors bridge both cultures and generations by inviting readers to meet grandparents across the world as they bond with their own grandchildren.

Each two-page spread features a simple line of text revealing a universal truth about family, illustrated with photographs of a grandparent and a grandchild from places as diverse as Yemen, Romania, and Peru. Vibrant country-specific photographs stand in lieu of drawn illustrations, transporting the reader to towns, villages, cities, and countryside to experience the diversity of ways grandparents play, learn, love, read and explore with their grandchildren. For example, next to “Grandparents explore the world with us,” we see three photographs: a Japanese grandson on the computer with his grandfather, a young girl in Greenland pushed on a sled by her grandfather, and a grandparent with grandchildren at the zoo in the United States.

Minimal text encourages children to interact with the striking photographs to identify different families’ activities, settings, customs and habits, while absorbing the importance of multigenerational bonding and the special role of grandparents. While the book does not include background information about the countries represented, the richness of the photographs and the questions they trigger provide a perfect springboard for a teacher or library group studying different cultures or places.  The authors’ meticulous attention to cultural diversity within countries, as well as across them, avoids the narrow representation of a country with a single group.  In photographs from the United States, for example, Native Americans feature prominently alongside Italian, African, Asian and mixed race American families.

Each photograph clearly labels the country of origin, and a map at the back of the book shows that “The grandparents and grandchildren in this book come from all over the world.” The authors also offer “Five Things to Do With Your Grandparents,” and part of the proceeds goes to The Global Fund for Children‘s grant-making for community-based projects benefiting children around the world.

Sara Hudson
April 2011