Always Up for Aesop

The simple fables attributed to Aesop have been told and retold for centuries, yet they still touch us. The brevity and relevance of the stories bring out the best in some illustrators. One of the most stunningly beautiful editions published in the last decade is Helen Ward’s The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse. 

Who could resist such a gorgeous feast of colors and textures, of vivid words and painted details? The lovely cover image is only the beginning; readers enter a sensuous and fully realized world. We see through the eyes of the country mouse, who knew “the insect-filled fields of summer and the rich, ripe orchards of autumn.” We experience the seasons, from spring’s fluffy pink apple blossoms to fall’s tawny red apples to winter’s crusted snow and then, back to the bluebells and sprigs of spring.

One bright morning, the city-slicker cousin arrives and points out differences between the two homes. No mud and no wild animals in the city, the mouse says. And “we dine on rich, exotic foods in sumptuous surroundings.” Ward’s paintings of the country, showing the beech trees’ golden and bright green leaves, berries glowing like amethysts and rubies, and a pond’s silvery reflections subtly explore another kind of wealth and foreshadow the story’s message.

The city mouse’s descriptions soon lead to the country mouse’s discontentment and longing for a new and different way of life. In the winter, he “hitched a ride toward the bustle and hum of the city.” Here, he finds a world of lights! elevators! fine, shiny Christmas ornaments! And the magnificent spread of cakes and cookies, tarts and eclairs seems heavenly until … the big-eyed, hungry pug arrives to spoil the day.

We last see the country mouse back home in the country, curled up in his simple, cozy nest. What a telling contrast with the last, wordless page showing the bloated city mouse sleeping in the cut-open wedge of blue cheese. It’s hard to imagine a more beautifully rendered version of this fable; it’s a work of art perfectly aimed at ages 5 to 7.

In Heather Forest’s The Contest Between the Sun and the Wind: An Aesop’s Fable, readers will find themselves pondering the question: “Can gentleness, instead of force, be an effective way to achieve a goal?” 

The simple but meaningful story involves a man who’s wearing a coat as he walks down the road. The Wind blustered that he was stronger than the Sun, and the sun agreed to see which of the two could get the man to take off his coat. As was his custom, the Wind blew with all its might, but the harder he blew, the more tightly the man held the coat next to his body. The huffy Wind gave up, and then it was the Sun’s turn. And when the Sun shone brightly, so brightly, the man grew warm and decided to remove his coat.

The storyteller has collaborated with the fabulous illustrator Susan Gaber on four other books. As expected, this one shines with the artist’s impressive range of perspectives, a pleasing palette, and a luscious sense of energy and movement. For more of their fine work, see their charming version of The Little Red Hen: An Old Fable, which focuses on the value of cooperation and community.

And no child should miss Jerry Pinkney’s magnificent The Lion and the Mouse, for which he earned the 2010 Caldecott Medal. One of Aesop’s most beloved fables, Pinkney’s wordless version tells the story with his amazingly detailed artwork, making it a great choice for educators who want to engage children in making predictions.

The fable’s plot, in which the seemingly insignificant mouse is brave and generous enough to save the lordly lion, offers wonderful opportunities to discuss the importance of kindness and respect for all.

Kimmel Turns up the Heat

I’ll admit, “Little Red Riding Hood” has never been a favorite of mine. But leave it to the fabulous storyteller Eric Kimmel to inject some spicy fun into the creepy old tale.

Set in Texas, Little Red Hot features a sassy girl dressed all over in fiery red, who just loves anything and everything made with chili peppers: “She ate peppers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She ate pepper ice cream for dessert. She had hot pepper cake for her birthday … .”

When Little Red Hot hears her grandma’s not feeling well, she decides to bake a hot pepper pie, just the thing to “knock those cold germs right out of her.” Readers can’t help but laugh when they hear how she goes about preparing that pie, with four kinds of ferocious peppers, along with Louisiana Hot Sauce. Why, “that pie was so hot, it baked itself.” And if the description of that concoction doesn’t kick up laughs, Laura Huliska-Beith’s lively illustrations (this one displays the word “WARNING” in capital red letters) surely will.

Little Red Hot sets off on her pony and meets Pecos Bill, who warns her Senor Lobo, otherwise known as the Big Bad Wolf, is on the prowl.

All too soon, she sees a toothy gray creature running toward her. Aiming to calm her worries, the wolf claims he’s merely harmless old Senor Coyote. Foolishly, she tells him where she’s going.

Just as you would expect, he reaches Grandma’s house before she does. When Little Red Hot arrives, she cuts Grandma a big piece of pepper pie and remarks on Grandma’s big eyes and big ears and big teeth. Then, she shoves that slice of pie in his mouth, and … let’s just say he never bothered Little Red Hot again.

Kimmel’s energetic retelling — complemented by red-hot paintings rendered in gouache, acrylic, and colored pencils — provides fine fare for a rowdy read-aloud for ages 5 to 7.

See also …

Give a Carrot a Chance?

Who knew carrots could be so wacky and wonderful? Creepy Carrots! reaped a 2013 Caldecott honor for its original, way-too-much-fun illustrations by the acclaimed Peter Brown (Children Make Terrible Pets and A Curious Garden and others). Feature this in your story hour, and you’ll harvest a bushel of laughs and a high demand for an original tale that appeals to many children’s taste for slightly scary stories.

A mashup of funny and frightening images done in retro black, white, and orange, Creepy Carrots! features a carrot-obsessed bunny who learns you can have too much of a good thing. The ridiculous nature of the plot — that carrots stalk a rabbit — supplies much of the frisson that sets this picture book apart from others.

The pacing of author Aaron Reynolds’ crazy tale will keep listeners wide-eyed and curious to hear more. Just after relishing his victory snack, Jasper the rabbit is puzzled by a soft, sinister sound: “the tunktunktunk of carrots creeping. He turned … but there was nothing there.”

And what expressions Peter Brown shows on the faces of Jasper and the carrots! Even though Jasper laughs at himself for even thinking carrots might be following him, the illustrator displays a range of conflicting emotions: eyebrows that look bewildered, eyes that seem anxious, and a mouth sporting a shallow smile. As for the carrots, some look like fierce, gap-toothed jack o’lanterns, while others look worried, surprised, intimidating.

The tale ends with a twist that will endear this book to many a reader. Make room for Creepy Carrots! in your story time or on your shelves. You won’t regret it … or will you?

A more lovable but still humorous perspective on carrots sprouts in Jan Peck’s The Giant Carrot, illustrated with verve by Barry Root.  Sweet little Isabelle, the youngest in the family, comes up with a special way to deal with a carrot that just won’t budge.

With visions of all the good stuff to come — carrot juice, carrot stew, carrot relish, and carrot pudding — each family member takes turns nurturing a carrot seedling. Papa tends the plant, Mama weeds around it, brother Abel waters it, and Isabelle … sings. And that’s what makes the plant grow and grow and grow.

At last, it’s as tall as Papa Joe, but it seems impossible to pull it out of the ground. Only when they all work together can they harvest the carrot that will supply a bounty of tasty treats.

Some of you no doubt will find this familiar fare, as it’s a riff on the Russian big turnip folktale. While there are many versions of the story, I recommend this charming one for children ages 5 to 8. The Giant Carrot illustrates the value of cooperation, while it also implies we should respect everyone, no matter how tiny. And that’s not all; it offers opportunities for multiple curricular uses. Science teachers can use this title in a unit on plant life, and reading teachers might employ it to teach the skill of predicting, or cause and effect. No matter the intention, you and your listeners will reap plenty of fun.

Another folktale that features sassy veggies is The Talking Vegetables
by Won-Ldy Paye and Margaret H. Lippert. The villagers plant a garden, but Spider doesn’t do his part. Finally, he tires of eating plain old rice and decides to help himself to the vegetables. But they won’t hear of it — and tell him so! This hilarious Liberian folktale, illustrated with exuberant paintings by Julie Paschkis, reveals the importance of working together to accomplish a goal.

Any of these fun read-alouds can be paired with Juanita Havill’s clever poem “The Monster,” from her collection I Heard It from Alice Zucchini: Poems About the Garden. The rhythmic, mostly unrhymed lines explore how the vegetables feel about the scarecrow in their midst. It’s one of twenty fun poems that celebrate the cycle of a garden, from winter’s seeds that “rattle their packets with chattering” to a potato buried in the snow.

And see my previous post, “How Does Your Garden Grow?”

Mothers’ Unending Gifts

What gifts do our mothers pass down to us? With The Granddaughter Necklace, prolific author Sharon Dennis Wyeth has created a masterful tribute to the legacy of a loving family. 

The cover image of a peony-bedecked matriarch holding up a glittering necklace of crystal beads to a pigtailed girl sets the tone for this gracious, bighearted picture book. As we discover why that necklace is so precious, we also learn about each mother and the special context in which the gift was shared.

Drawing from her own family history, the author traces the whereabouts of a fictional necklace and presents a brief, enlightening vignette featuring each of seven generations. The effect of this moving story is heightened by the beautifully rendered paintings done in acrylic-gouache by Bagram Ibatoulline. The reader is never overwhelmed with details, as both illustrations and typography give one time enough to pause and appreciate each descendent and her era. An intelligent design choice, for instance, occurs as each mother bequeaths the necklace; at the bottom of the page that woman’s name is revealed with a large, elegant script that resembles handwriting.

The author brings the story full circle, as she herself awards the necklace to her own young daughter following her big piano recital.

In Wyeth’s interesting afterward, she points out how her family has, to her surprise, been traced to an Irish woman named Frances, who settled down with Theodore Harper, a free man of color who owned a farm in Virginia. The author’s African ancestress, from Cameroon, remains unknown, yet Wyeth asserts “she dwells in my heart with Frances and with my mother and with all of my other grandmothers.”

Don’t miss this stunning tribute to mothers and daughters. Perhaps The Granddaughter Necklace will inspire you, too, to share some of your own family’s stories.

See also …

 

 

Five Alive for Cinco de Mayo

With Cinco de Mayo approaching, why not spice up your story time with a few appealing picture books that incorporate  choice Spanish words?

Get the party started with the hilarious Mice and Beans by Pam Muñoz Ryan. A harried grandmother is preparing a birthday party for her young granddaughter, Catalina. So much to do! Several times Abuela misplaces items or forgets details and each time, she muses, “No importa!” Fortunately, she has a little help from an unlikely source — mice, those pesks she has always shooed out of her kitchen whenever she’s spotted them.

The plot’s sly humor and lively details, including the children’s beloved pinata, are captured with Joe Cepeda’s bright, energetic oil paintings. Read this with gusto; Mice and Beans includes a glossary and pronunciation guide to help with the Spanish words and phrases woven into the charming story.

Keep the laughs coming with The Cat Who Came for Tacos, by Diana Star Helmer, another picture book with simple Spanish words and phrases, as well as a lively plot. “Mi casa es su casa,” a man and woman tell a stray cat that comes to their home and stays to share their tacos. Oh, what manners that cat has! Children love hearing how the adults patiently teach the impulsive cat how to eat like a human. Adults will appreciate the subtle message of how we should respect others.

For those looking for a more contemplative tone, consider Martín de Porres: The Rose in the Desert by Gary D. Schmidt and illustrated with characteristic verve by David Diaz. Winner of the 2013 Pura Belpre Illustrator Award, this picture-book biography introduces children to the Catholic church’s first black saint in the Americas.

Martin was the humble child of a Spanish conqueror and an African slave. Growing up in the Lima barrios, he had a tender, spiritual nature. Yet, when he wanted to enter the Monastery of the Holy Rosary, the prior insisted Martín could never become a priest because he was “not of pure blood.” So Martín instead worked as a servant, mopping floors, cutting the monks’ hair, sweeping the chapel, all the while submitting to the brothers’ heartless prejudice against him.

Martín began to heal others — wounded dogs, desperate villagers, and eventually, the brothers in the monastery and even the Spanish royals, whom Martín tended after he had helped the poorest in the barrios. After 13 years of such service, Martín’s wish to join to the monastery as a brother came true.

Strange and wondrous stories followed Martín throughout his life. Some said he walked with angels or could appear in two places at once. Others said his lemon and orange trees produced fruit all year long. When he brought bread to the hungry in the barrios, the food seemed to multiply so that he always had enough.

The story of this “rose in the desert,” as his mother called him, is an uplifting tale of compassion and triumph. The author’s note supplies additional background information on Martín de Porres, born in 1579 and canonized in 1962. He is the patron saint of universal brotherhood, interracial relations, social justice, public education, and animal shelters.

See also …

A Fine Day for a Walk

Make room on your bookshelves for one more duckling book this spring. Eva Moore’s Lucky Ducklings: A True Rescue Story has the feel and look of a modern classic. At the same time, the plot derives from events that occurred in Montauk, NY, in 2000, when the community came together to save some hapless little ducks.

As this charming picture book relates, nature does not exist solely in the country. “The Duck family lived in a pretty pond in a green, green park, in a sunlit little town at the end of a long, long island.” The illustrator Nancy Carpenter beautifully evokes the setting with her muted, watery palette, achieved with charcoal and digital media.

“It’s a fine day for a walk!” Mama Duck proclaims. With simple, rhythmic language, Ms. Moore takes us along with Pippin, Bippin, Tippin, Dippin, and Little Joe as they make their way past overflowing trash cans, head off the curb, and follow Mama over the storm grate. Mama steps across easily, but, oh, my, the ducklings fall through! That could have been the end of the story, the author notes, but, thankfully, it didn’t stop there.

Plenty of folks pitch in to help the little ones; an observant bystander notices what happened and calls for help. Firemen and a tow-truck driver are able to save the ducklings and reunite them with their mama.

The afterward, too, shows how the community prevented other small animals from the same predicament: they replaced the storm drain grate with a new one with smaller openings.

Evocative, simple, and memorable, Lucky Ducklings makes for a fine read-aloud for ages 5 to 7.

Also see …

Getting By With a Little Wit

Give it up, you baby boomers. You had a favorite Beatle, didn’t you? You cherished some bubblegum card or poster or magazine photo because it featured John or Paul or George or Ringo. Veteran children’s nonfiction writer Kathleen Krull has teamed up with her husband, author/illustrator Paul Brewer, to bring the band back to the spotlight for a generation too young to have experienced Beatlemania in all its craziness.

“From the time they got together

as lads until they became superstars, the Fab Four made music, made history, and made people laugh,” the authors relate on the first page of The Beatles Were Fab (and They Were Funny). That last component—the band’s sense of humor—supplies a creative spin on the oft-told history of the iconic band that blew in from Liverpool and swept the charts here, there, and everywhere.

The authors adopt a breezy, lighthearted tone throughout this spirited romp through Beatlemania. They employ a bevy of jokes and quips to show how the Fab Four used laughter to help them cope with life’s highs and lows. Entertaining quotes from each musician advance the story and reveal the quirky charm and resilience of each musician. Although adoring fans and ambitious reporters impinged on their private lives, the Beatles showed remarkable creativity in dealing with pesky people.

The authors devote a page of engaging Q’s and A’s culled from interviews with each musician. We learn, for instance, that when a journalist told John, “Some people think your haircuts are un-American,” John replied, “Well, it was very observant of them, because we aren’t Americans actually.”

When someone asked Paul, “Is your hair real?” he inquired, “Is yours?” George told a reporter if he stopped being a Beatle, he might “train elephants in the zoo.” And in response to the doltish question, “How did you find America?” Ringo quipped, “We went to Greenland and made a left turn.”

The star atop such quips is Stacy Innerst’s acrylic paintings full of personality, redolent with thick brush strokes, and rich with relevant details. Mr. Innerst, who illustrated the writing team’s Lincoln Tells a Joke, again shows what it means to be in synch with the authors’ intent.

Early in the story, Mr. Innerst shows readers a drum sporting the goofy names the band considered before choosing the one that made them laugh. As the authors describe the band’s heady taste of fame, the illustrator depicts a chunky golden hit machine with 45s popping out of a funnel, one smash hit after another. Later, on the page relating their wildly popular 1964 American tour, Mr. Innerst shows a huge black guitar case displaying the names of the cities where they performed. On top of the curvy case, the Beatles whiz along in a miniature roller coaster.

Such touches go a long way in adding crowd appeal to this confection, as sweet and as filling as the jelly beans fans flung at the Beatles. A timeline and bibliography serve to direct young fans to more substantive sources.

Reprinted with permission from The New York Journal of Books.

NOTE: I’m offering one free hardback copy of The Beatles Were Fab to a random U.S. reader! Just tweet, post this on Facebook, or become a new email subscriber, and you’ll be entered in the contest. Then leave a comment to let me know you’re entering the contest. The deadline is April 1, April Fool’s Day — but it’s no joke. I’ll announce the winner on the 2nd.

See also … my post on my favorite Beatle, John  and Yoko Ono’s site, “Imagine Peace,” with audio clips, photos, interviews, and details on Yoko’s current projects for peace. The couple married 44 years ago, on March 20, 1969.

50th Anniversary of The Beatles Album. Please Please Me 22nd of March 1963. (Photo credit: Jimmy Big Potatoes)

Leading the Way to the Library

How did the public library evolve from a hushed book repository for adults to the vibrant heart of communities? And when did children get to join the party? Jan Pinborough’s picture-book debut highlights a woman who defied customs and expectations and wrought a transformation that continues to this day.

Brightly illustrated with Debby Atwell’s playful acrylic paintings, Miss Moore Thought Otherwise: How Anne Carroll Moore Created Libraries for Children sprinkles colorful little details that reveal a likable, somewhat lively heroine. The child from Limerick, ME, who loved heart-thumping toboggan rides as well as the stories her father read aloud would one day pack her bags to attend the Pratt Institute library school in Brooklyn. She chose one of the few professions open to women in the early 20th century: library studies.

She first worked at the local Pratt Free Library, which had, to her mind, a delightful new feature: a library space just for children. In an era in which other librarians cultivated the reading interests of only adults, “Miss Moore thought otherwise”—a refrain Ms. Pinborough uses to delineate how her approach differed from that of the majority.

Word spread about Anne Carroll Moore’s abilities, and in time she was hired to oversee the children’s departments in all 36 branches of the New York Public Library. Finally she was in a position to make changes that would have an impact on thousands of families.

To her dismay, she found many librarians still did not allow children even to touch books, let alone take them home. She set about changing that. Unlike her contemporaries, Miss Moore did not believe the library was meant to be as quiet as a tomb. One cheerful, full-page painting shows Miss Moore in her floor-length skirt helping to take down a huge black sign with the word “silence.” She urged librarians to talk to children, to tell them stories. And what about those dull books no one wanted to read? Out with them! Instead, she brought in the likes of Tom Sawyer and The Swiss Family Robinson to satisfy children’s taste for adventure.

Then came a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. A grand new library would be built at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street. Annie Moore had the chance to create the very best children’s library for New York City’s youth.

The innovations she introduced at the New York Public Library have now been adopted around the world. Such logical features include child-size furniture, bright, attractive artwork and displays; the inclusion of cozy seating; and kid-pleasing book collections. Reading clubs and visits by talented performers, artists, and authors enlivened the children’s room, then and now.

In her interesting afterward, Ms. Pinborough notes that in reality, Anne Carroll Moore was one of a number of strong, independent women librarians who revolutionized children’s library services. For that, we can all be grateful.

Reprinted, in slightly altered form, with permission from The New York Journal of Books.

Jeanette Winter’s important picture-book biography, The Librarian of Basra: A True Story from Iraq, should be read and discussed in every upper-elementary school library. Here’s a unique opportunity to meet a real hero, Alia Muhammad Baker, chief librarian of Basra’s Central Library. As war approached, she set about protecting her community’s precious books. When the government refused to help, she found a nearby restaurant owner who helped her store the books — just nine days before the library burned. Then she moved the 30,000 volumes to her own home and to those of her friends, hoping that peace would soon come. Winter based this picture book on the July 27, 2003 New York Times article by Shaila K. Dewan. She deftly describes and illustrates the events without overwhelming children with the horrors of war. This book can lead to thoughtful discussions of the vital role the library plays in a community and to an analysis of the characteristics of a hero.

The Storyteller’s Candle/La velita de los cuentos by Lucia Gonzalez is a tender tribute to Pura Belpré, New York City’s first Puerto Rican librarian, whose name was given to the American Library Association’s annual award that honors Latino authors and illustrators.

Readers encounter Hildamar and her cousin, Santiago, as they enter the library in Manhattan’s El Barrio. Recently arrived from Puerto Rico, they are struggling to navigate new customs in a bewildering big city. Fortunately, the children find a creative and caring librarian, who lights her storyteller’s candle, speaks in both English and Spanish, and sparks imagination in her listeners. Soon, the children lead their family, friends, and neighbors to the public library, where they create a holiday play and, in the process, create a stronger community. Lulu Delacre’s oil and collage illustrations add warmth to this inspiring story, just right for ages 8-10.

Also see …

My previous post on librarians and

• Talk: Exploring the Role of the City’s Public Libraries (wnyc.org)

Let’s Hear It for the Women

Have you checked out the third annual KidLit project on Women’s History Month? This year’s theme is “Women Inspiring Innovation Through Imagination: Celebrating Women in Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics,” and diverse and divine writers are contributing posts on women who used their brains to accomplish great things. Feed your adventurous spirit over at
http://kidlitwhm.blogspot.com/ 

The post I contributed to the 2011 celebration focused on the artist who invented the picture book. Wanda Gág’s story is beautifully rendered for children in Deborah Kogan Ray’s Wanda Gág: The Girl Who Lived to Draw. The author/illustrator uses evocative excerpts from Gág’s diary to great effect, weaving in highlights of the family’s roots in the German-speaking area of Bohemia (now part of the Czech Republic).

Ray’s bright, lively paintings exude color and a full range of emotions. She shows the seven imaginative Gág children drawing and putting on their own plays, inspired by the folktales told by their imaginative parents. Ray also shows a quiet Wanda in the attic studio, observing her father, “happy in his soul” as he allowed himself the freedom to paint for pleasure on Sundays. Then there is the somber death-bed scene, with Wanda holding her father’s hands as he urges her to pursue art: “What Papa couldn’t do, Wanda will have to finish.”

His death from tuberculosis, when Wanda was just 15, might have precluded any chance that the eldest daughter would become an artist. Instead, her resolve strengthened. To reach her goal, she would have to battle poverty, pressure from her provincial neighbors to work as a store clerk, her friends’ conventional expectations for marriage, as well as sexism in the art world and in society at large.

Not only did Wanda and all her siblings finish high school, Wanda won a scholarship to study art, first in St. Paul, Minnesota, then at the prestigious Art Students League in New York City. That’s where a children’s book editor, taken with her vivid images, asked Wanda if she had ever considered writing children’s books. In fact, Wanda had a box full of ideas for children’s stories.

Gág’s success with Millions of Cats, considered the first picture book, led to ten other inventive children’s books, ranging from The ABC Bunny, the first alphabet book to tell a story; to her still-beloved picture books The Funny Thing, Gone is Gone, Nothing at All, and Snippy and Snappy, as well as Tales from Grimm, which she translated from her native German.

Suggested Discussion Questions

for Wanda Gág: The Girl Who Lived to Draw

Teachers, parents, and librarians can use Ray’s picture-book biography (for ages 7-10) to enhance children’s appreciation of creativity, community, and perseverance.

1.  Hold up the two-page spread showing the children acting out a play. Ask, “How did the family encourage the children’s creativity?”

2.  Wanda spoke only German until she went to school. How do you think it would feel to enter a school where you were expected to learn a new language?

3.  What did Wanda mean when she said her father was “happy in his soul” while painting in the attic? What kinds of activities make you feel this way?

4.  Why did Papa urge Wanda to look at the world in her own way?

5.  At bedtime, Wanda’s mom read her Grimms’ fairy tales. What kinds of books do you like to hear read aloud?

6.  Wanda wrote that many of her childhood memories centered on the “Grandma folks.” How did those experiences with older relatives contribute to her development as a person or as an artist?

7.  Wanda described her “drawing fits.” Have you ever been so engaged in an activity that you lost track of time? What were you doing? How did you feel?

8.  Why do you think Papa told Wanda she would have to finish what he could not do? What effect did this have on her goals?

9.  Why did the neighbors urge Wanda to quit school and get a job? Do you think you would have resisted, as Wanda did? Why or why not?

10.  How did Wanda manage to help her family survive while at the same time developing her artistic talent?

11.  Wanda’s motto became “Draw to live, and live to draw.” What did she mean by that?

12.  How did the art school and the culture of New York City assist Wanda in developing her own artistic style?

13.  Wanda was able to take advantage of the opportunity to create children’s books partly because she had a “Notebook of Ideas.” Do you have some kind of notebook or journal where you keep some of your ideas? What do you enjoy about that?

14.  How did Papa’s advice that Wanda see the world in her own way help her to succeed? What other qualities helped her?

Armed with a Conscience

The Fugitive Slave Act of 1850, which allowed slave owners to capture runaways anywhere in the U.S., not only brought terror and pain to countless people. It presented a daunting challenge to those who listened to their conscience when it told them slavery was evil. The Price of Freedom: How One Town Stood Up to Slavery reveals the true story of how the people of Oberlin, Ohio, risked their lives and, in some cases, their freedom, to save John Price, who had escaped from Kentucky.

The dramatic picture book, brought to life with gripping, realistic paintings by Eric Velasquez, describes how “rough looking” men keen on getting a reward, pulled guns on John and abducted him. As they drove the wagon toward the nearby town of Wellington, John noticed an Oberlin College student walking down the road. John called out that he was being kidnapped. The student kept walking and seemed not to hear him.

Soon, the kidnapper pocketed his ill-gotten money. The Kentuckian Anderson Jennings, who had paid the reward, squirreled away in the attic of Wadsworth’s Hotel with John Price until they could board the next southbound train.

Back in Oberlin, things were not so quiet. That student had raced to town to announce that slave catchers had their friend John Price. In no time, hundreds of citizens — young and old, men and women, rich and poor, black and white — clogged the road on the way to Wellington.

“Bring him out!” they chanted as they reached the hotel.

Anderson Jennings stood on the balcony and refused, saying the law was on his side. Anyone helping a slave escape could be thrown into jail, he reminded the crowd.

The train arrived, but Jennings dared not board.

Then a dozen bold men entered the hotel and made their way upstairs. The men fought, and one fired a gun (that missed). They rescued John just in time.

From there, the abolitionists’ network of safe homes known as the Underground Railroad led John Price to freedom.

The Price of Freedom, by Judith Bloom Fradin and Dennis Brindell Fradin, presents an exciting, little-known episode in our nation’s history. Highly recommended for ages 9 to 12.

For more thrilling nonfiction and historical fiction, see my post on Carole Boston Weatherford
and these titles …