Mouse House

By Rumer Godden

Illustrated by Adrienne Adams

Copyright 1957

I remember Mouse House as the first book with a substantial amount of text that my oldest daughter sat through.  The story of Bonnie, a real little mouse who needed a place to sleep, captured her attention enough so she could sit still for at least a half hour – just enough time for my voice to grow a little hoarse!  But I didn’t mind.  I was thrilled that she was enraptured by a story enough to not need many pictures.

Bonnie is the youngest and smallest of many mouse siblings.  There just isn’t enough room in their flower pot home in the cellar, and Bonnie continually gets pushed out onto the cold floor.  Finally, she’s had enough of that and went upstairs in search of a better place to sleep.  Luckily, she finds a real little house with furniture and carpets that Mary was given as a gift.  

Bonnie sleeps comfortably in a warm bed, but is frightened in the morning when she realizes she can’t get out through the shut door and windows.  In her panic, she dashes to and fro, knocking over the furniture and ripping up the carpets.  When Mary discovers the tiny house is in ruins, she relegates it to the cellar.  How lucky for the mouse family!  Now they all take over the little house (after ripping the door off its hinges) and there is room enough for everyone.

Bonnie realizes that if she had never been pushed out onto the cold cellar floor, her family would not have the wonderful little house.

Lesson for the day:  Sometimes it takes plenty of discomfort and pain to force us to search for what we really need.  And sometimes, we just might find something that’s better than we could have possibly imagined!

The Snowstorm

By Beryl Netherclift

Copyright 1967

Last week I wrote about C.S. Lewis and his Narnia books.  This week, I read a book that is reminiscent of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.  

In The Snowstorm, three siblings travel to their aunt’s house in the country while their parents go on a cruise.  Exploring Farthingales, the decrepit old home, they come upon an object on the library shelf that has magical powers.  Not a wardrobe, as in Lewis’ books, but a beautiful snow globe.  Through it, the children find they can communicate with ancestors who have previously lived at the old estate.  The children have adventures they never expected when an actual snowstorm separates them from their aunt and they have to survive on their own.  Can these ghosts in the snow globe help them find Aunt Amethyst and the treasure to save her beloved home?  

It was one conversation in the book that really caught my attention.  

The night after discovering the magical snow globe, the children discuss the room they found it in.  There is something about that library that is different from other rooms.  

“Yes, still, there was something about the library.  Something…something…. What was it?  It’s a feeling of things being concentrated there.  Something watchful, as if…”

That is how I sometimes feel while in a library surrounded by old books.  As if the people who read the books before me are there too.  The notes they have left on the pages are calling out.  As if the beloved fictional characters are waiting, hoping to come alive when their pages are opened.  Things are concentrated there.  The hopes and fears of authors, characters, and past readers – all in one room.

Yes, there is something about a library that is different from other rooms. 

C.S. Lewis Letters to Children

Edited by Lyle W. Dorsett and Marjorie Lamp Mead

1985
A collection of letters written from C.S. Lewis to various children from 1945 to 1963.

Like other successful authors, C.S. Lewis received many letters from his fans.  Lewis felt it was his duty to respond to the letters written by children.   Many children wrote with comments and questions about the beloved Narnia series in which four children travel to a fantasy land through a magical wardrobe.  In one letter, Lewis responds to a girl who questioned why the children grew up in Narnia and then returned to this world through the wardrobe as children.  Yes, he replies, they will eventually grow up in this world too.  But according to Lewis, age really doesn’t matter.  

“You see, I don’t think age matters so much as people think.  Parts of me are still 12 and I think other parts were already 50 when I was 12: so I don’t feel it very odd that they grow up in Narnia while they are children in England.”

What an insight this is.  And what a relief, too.  I’m not the only one who feels this way!  At times I feel (and act) like a child.  Other times I feel a hundred years old.  Perhaps this is why I love children’s literature so much - a really good children’s book can be enjoyed by any age.  It was Lewis himself who said, “A children's story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children's story in the slightest.” I completely agree!

The Magic of a Story

Last week, during toddler storytime, I gazed out on 60 pairs of eyes.  In my arms I held a small black plastic cauldron and a wooden spoon.  When I introduced the story, I did happen to mention that the cauldron and spoon are magic, which may account for the looks of wonder I was seeing.  From drooling babies to smiling grandparents, they gasped in awe as the apple turned into a long thin piece of red felt.  

 

“I’ll take the apple, put it in the pot, stir it, stir it, stir it a lot.  Take it out now.  What will it be?  The prettiest red you ever did see!” 

 The orange orange turned into a strip of orange felt, the yellow banana turned to a long piece of yellow.  Each piece of felt was going up onto the flannel board in turn.  At this point, one child whispered, “It’s a rainbow!”  Once I finished with the purple grapes and the rainbow was complete, I grinned as applause broke out.

Are the cauldron and spoon magic?  Maybe not.  But what is really awe inspiring is the power of words put together into a story and the wonder in the mind of a child.  The combination of the two is where the magic happens.