Two of the books I gave my 8-year-old daughter for Christmas were Douglas Wood‘s Old Turtle (illus. by Cheng Khee-Chee) and Old Turtle and the Broken Truth (illus. by Jon J Muth). I had heard much about these modern-day classics over the years and was looking forward to sharing them with her. I read the books once, before wrapping and putting them under our Christmas tree, but it wasn’t until we read them together, snuggled up in bed, that I realized how truly special they were. Their plea for unity, acceptance and understanding between people and nature got two thumbs up from my daughter.

In Old Turtle, when all creation starts arguing over who or what God is, Old Turtle, their wise and ancient leader, is the only one who accepts and incorporates the beliefs of all the creatures: “‘God is indeed deep,’ she says to the fish in the sea, ‘and much higher than high,’ she tells the mountains.” In Old Turtle and the Broken Truth (Muth’s image of the Truth falling from the sky and breaking in half being an especially poignant one), it’s up to a young, determined girl to help humans see that the truth they are fighting over is broken, and that there is not just one truth, but “truths all around us, and within us.”

The very important ideas these books convey add dimension to our website’s current focus on Respect for Religious Diversity, and the following quote from Old Turtle and the Broken Truth perfectly captures its essence:

Remember this, Little One… The Broken Truth, and life itself, will be mended only when one person meets another—someone from a different place or with a different face or different ways—and sees and hears herself. Only then will the people know that every person, every being, is important, and that the world was made for each of us.

Whitney Stewart (The 14th Dalai Lama: Spiritual Leader of Tibet; Becoming Buddha: The Story of Siddhartha) once wrote an article for the since discontinued literary journal Five Owls, called Understanding Cultures, Fostering Peace. The piece was essentially a profile of author Suzanne Fisher Staples (Shabanu; Haveli; Under the Persimmon Tree) and of her work, which often tells the tales of the Muslim people she got to know and admire while doing research on literacy for the U.S. Agency for International Development.

In her article, Stewart has much praise for Staples’ work and its power to promote peace and understanding. She talks about how her novels show us “that the worlds of Islam and Hinduism are as diverse as the worlds of Christianity and Judaism”; how she knows and respects the worlds she uncover; how “she finds her own humanness in the humanness of her characters.”

As it turns out, Stewart’s words say a lot about the humanity of both of them and confirm the idea that in order to encourage children to embrace, not fear, the diversity that makes up our world, we must help them understand the richness and interconnectedness of our peoples and cultures. “Until we stop judging people who are different from us as inferior,” cautions Staples, as quoted in the article, “our prospects for peace look very dim. What we need are empathy and compassion—not judgment and stereotyping.” Stewart concurs: “Children look to adults for confirmation of their reaction to differences. When children see someone ‘odd,’ they ask adults why it is so. If the adult confirms the strangeness, discrimination is born in the child. However, if the adult confirms the beauty of many ways of being, of living, then the child accepts the beauty and is perhaps drawn to that which once seemed different. In her novels, Staples confirms such beauty.”

Through their writing, both authors, in fact, convey a belief in young people’s ability to understand and embrace the complex beauty of our world. And perhaps because they appeal to children’s higher sentiments, their work always meets with a response.

I hope 2010 and years to come will bring us more children’s books by courageous and compassionate writers like them.

For more on Whitney Stewart’s work, check out this blog post, Inspiration for Books on Inspiration, where she talks about her desire to help children learn “to listen to their inner wisdom.”

Continuing our exploration of respect in relation to end-of-year celebrations and inspired by Marjorie’s beautiful post on The Christmas Menorahs, today I highlight Maya Angelou‘s Amazing Peace: A Christmas Poem (Schwartz & Wade, 2008).

Although written in a Christmas spirit, the poem’s resonance is far more broad, as it encourages one and all to “Come away from rancor. Come the way of friendship.” A sound piece of advice to humanity in this day and age when wars and conflicts still happen in the name of religion.

As seen in the excerpted verses below, her poem is a call for peace and unity:

We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Peace.
Come and fill us and our world with your majesty.
We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian,
Implore you, to stay a while with us.
So we may learn by your shimmering light
How to look beyond complexion and see community.

It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.

On this platform of peace, we can create a language
To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.

These words go straight into the heart, don’t they?

Do you know of other books for children that speak of people from different faiths coming together during the holidays? Would you recommend them? Please do share so we can all learn about how others have “come the way of friendship.”

The new issue of PaperTigers, focusing on Religious Diversity in relation to End-of-Year Celebrations, is now live.

The end of the year, when so many holy and secular days are observed and celebrated, reminds us of the importance of understanding and being respectful of how others in our communities engage with and
express their beliefs. Books play an essential role in helping children learn about differences (for instance, why some people celebrate different holidays, or the same holidays in different ways, while others don’t celebrate anything): but more than anything, books can help them realize that, while our individualities do matter, our common humanity matters even more.

We hope you will enjoy our new features, which focus on celebrating diversity while striving for a more encompassing and tolerant world for all our children, families and communities.

We will also be talking about religious diversity and end-of-year celebrations here on the blog this month, so we hope you will share your favorite books and experiences with us!

When Jane Vejjajiva won the S.E.A. Write Award for The Happiness of Kati, it was quite a bit as though J.K. Rowling had won the Man Booker Prize for Harry Potter. This is a highly prestigious award given for extraordinary literature written in Southeast Asia, and it isn’t usually bestowed upon a children’s book.

And yet this isn’t a book that is read exclusively by children. I received it as a Christmas gift from my good friend Yui, who is younger than I am but is certainly no longer a child. We both count it as one of our favorite books–and here are some reasons why.

From the opening sentences of this book, Kati’s life is described simply and yet in wonderful detail. Her grandparents, her school, her chores, her meals are all real to the reader well before the first twenty pages have been devoured. And yet, a sadness is slowly delineated in every chapter subheading–Kati’s absent mother takes on a phantom’s shape long before Kati is taken to be with her.

It is here that this book blossoms into a strength and beauty rarely found in a children’s novel. Kati’s time with her mother is brief, but their relationship has depth, sweetness, and a life of its own. The importance of family within Thai culture is made beautifully clear, and the respect given to a child’s decision offers an ethical guideline without moralizing.

Best of all–for me at least–is the masterful depiction of each person in this story. With a minimum of description, Jane Vejjajiva makes every one of her characters come to life, fully equipped to live on in the imaginations of those who savor this book.

If you agree–or perhaps disagree–please let us hear your comments before our final discussion next week.