By: Anna Lyndsey,
on 3/2/2015
I have always been a reader, but eight years ago, strange circumstances conspired to make me totally book-dependent. I was stuck within four walls, desperate for distraction and a conduit to the world; but I had to live in total darkness, unable to see words on a page. So, from the small player in the [...]
(From The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, Edited by Thomas H. Johnson)
Hope as an unremitting act is a theme of what I consider to be one of the best Christmas stories for children ever written–The Story of Holly & Ivy by Rumer Godden.
“At Christmastime, wishes have the power to make dreams come true, especially if you wish very hard and your wish touches another’s heart.” (From the inside book cover)
Holly is a doll who finds herself in a toy shop, unpacked for the first time two days before Christmas. She is a Christmas doll because she is dressed in red and green, and if she isn’t sold by Christmas Eve, then there is little hope for her, until next year, which is a very long time for a doll.
Ivy is a little girl who lives in an orphanage and has nowhere to go at Christmas. She is a Christmas girl because she is dressed in green and red. Ivy is shipped to an infants’ shelter for the holidays, but she tells the people on the train that she is going to her grandmother’s house at Appleton. Ivy has never been to Appleton, but she quickly learns that it is a real stop on her train journey. The little girl gets off the train at Appleton, but there is no one there to meet her.
Holly and Ivy each have a wish. A powerful wish. Holly wants a home and someone who will love her. Ivy wants a home and someone who will love her. When two pure hearts have a stout longing for the same thing, surely their hope will be rewarded on Christmas Eve.
Even if you think you know how this story ends, I happen to believe you will be in suspense until the very last page. I can always hope.
One last thing: this story is a lot of fun to read at Christmastime with a child or two, or more.
By Nicki Richesin, The Children’s Book Review
Published: November 29, 2011
During the holiday season it’s a great joy to share family traditions and spend time together. Every year, I look forward to reading these beloved books below to my daughter.
By Rumer Godden; illustrated by Barbara Cooney
Rumer Godden begins The Story of Holly & Ivy with the sweetest line, “This is a story about wishing.” When an orphan named Ivy and a dreamy doll named Holly see each other through a toy shop window, magic happens. In this classic Christmas tale, Holly and Ivy both find a sense of belonging in their new home and to each other. Wishes come true in part thanks to Barbara Cooney’s tender illustrations of the festive village and toys. Godden captures the precious beauty of a brave girl unwilling to give up on her dream. (Ages 5-10)
By Aliki
My daughter and I love returning to Christmas Tree Memories by Aliki each December just like the family’s tradition in the book of sitting by their tree with cookies and a roaring fire to recount each story behind their homemade ornaments. Aliki imbues such gentleness to each character, whether it’s Papouli or the children, the love this family feels for each other comes across with her every detail. (Ages 4-8)
By Iza Trapani
Jingle Bells (as told and illustrated by Iza Trapani) is a rollicking fun songbook filled with holiday customs and traditions from around the world. Children will enjoy learning about bearded little gnomes in Sweden, lantern parades in the Philippines, breaking the piñata in Mexico, and presents found in their shoes in Italy. (Ages 4-8)
By: Melissa Wiley,
on 1/7/2010
Gregory never forgot things—”He’s like a small elephant,” said Father—and a week later, while Gregory, Janet, and Marta were having tea in the kitchen, he took his chance. Marta had made a wonderful cake-tart of apricots glazed with jam and they had eaten and drunk and laughed. Marta’s usually sallow cheeks were quite red; her eyes, which were often so dull, were bright. There was not a trace of sadness in the air until Gregory put down his cup and asked in his small, quiet way, “What did you have in your kitchen, Marta, that we don’t have in ours?”
Oh, I didn’t know, I didn’t know! The Kitchen Madonna has been in my pile for months. One of you, someone out there, wrote about it a while back, and whatever you said made me hunt up a used copy. It arrived old and drab and worn, much like the Marta of the story, and I stuck it on a shelf and forgot about it. It turned up during a housecleaning last week, and I picked it quite absently this afternoon—and wound up sobbing my way through it. Oh my.
The baby was asleep in my lap and Wonderboy, who is feverish today, slumped against my shoulder, dozing, while beside us the four girls played a Wii game. I ought to have been up getting dinner on. I ought to have been doing a good many things, but I fell into that book and still haven’t climbed back out. I’m staring at a picture, a crooked golden crown, a painted blue sky, a flickering red lamp.
It’s Rumer Godden, so of course I expected it to be a good story, a moving one even. But just how moving, I had no idea. And that’s all I’m going to say about it—here. We can talk more in the comments, if you like.
Like the stable in Narnia, some things are bigger on the inside than you’d ever guess from their (old, worn, drab) exteriors.
