GRANDPA GREEN

MacMillan Children’s Publishing Group calls Grandpa Green “the book grownups read to those still growing.”

GRANDPAGREENIIPicture Book Fiction
Age Range: 5-9 years
Grade Level: Kindergarten-4th
Published by Roaring Book Press,
Holtzbrinck Publishing Holdings
Ltd Partnership

Text and Illustrations
Copyright © 2011 by Lane Smith

 

Peek inside.

Peek inside.

AWARDS

A Caldecott Honor Book
A New York Times Best Illustrated Book
A Publishers Weekly Best Children’s Book
Silver Medal Society of Illustrators
An Amazon Best Book
Kansas City Star Top 100 Books
A Barnes & Noble Best Book
A School Library Journal Best Book
Seven Impossible Things Top Ten
A Time Out New York Kids Best Book
Junior Library Guild Selection
Starred Review by Publishers Weekly
Starred Review by School Library Journal

WHY GRANDPA GREEN IS A KEM GEM

KKRISTI’S TAKE
GRANDPA GREEN ornamentally grows our imagination, and creates a place like paradise. This quiet story dedicated to a grandparent derives its energy from the wonderfully clever illustrations. What makes GRANDPA GREEN standout from other sentimental picture books that chronicle a life are the clever, conflicted, laugh-and-cry moments; especially the ending. GRANDPA GREEN reminds both the young and the old that there’s a resolution to every problem, even the ones that seem the most unfortunate.

Lane has created a masterpiece with humor and heART.

Favorite line
“But the important stuff, the garden remembers for him.”

KEM Sapphire
EELISE’S TAKE
Using an art form within an art form, Smith has done it again. His illustrations of topiary designs are brimming with texture, humor, and profound depth as they explore pieces of a fictional gardener’s biography. While some shapes are immediately apparent, I found I could not rush through this book. Each spread demands that the reader pause, or else risk missing a visual surprise. A dramatic four-page gatefold at the ends elaborately reviews the entire story of the gardener’s well-lived life.

Smith’s quiet story explores a wide range of universal emotions, and undoubtedly sparks imagination and discussion across generations of readers.

KEM Diamond


MGrayMARRAS’ TAKE
Wowee! Wow! Wow! I want what Lane Smith eats for breakfast. Who else would have thought to narrate a story about a long and fulfilling life through a great-grandson’s guided topiary tour? Smith’s enigmatic illustrations and elegant silence drew me to one conclusion. Each page turn dazzled me with a new truth.

GRANDPA GREEN covers the three “r’s” of relationship, reverence, and remembering. The Ancient Greek symbol of regeneration and rebirth, GREEN, provides the perfect color scheme for a book about the generational gift of life–and the ultimate last name for Great Grandpa. This timeless and gentle book will bless generations to our great-grandchildren and beyond.

Favorite line (Kristi and I didn’t compare notes. Honest.)
“But the important stuff, the garden remembers for him.”

GEMrub

What do you like most about GRANDPA GREEN?

Strategic Spontaneity II

As posted in September, my husband and I committed to individual dates with our grandchildren. We’d intended to do this twice a year with each child.  But, with five grandchildren, and another making his debut any minute, we needed to step it up.  So, we finally enjoyed our first date with our second grandchild.  Coordinating around runny noses, holidays, work, school, and family time becomes more challenging as they grow.

Our date with “Tinkerbell”, granddaughter number two, age five, was even less spontaneous than our date with “Katie“, granddaughter number one.  Tink wanted to do everything we did with her sister — only, with amusement rides.  One thing we hadn’t thought about: 5:30-7:30 p.m. in January is a lot darker than 5:30-7:30 in August.  Also: 5:30-7:30 p.m. in January is a lot colder than 5:30-7:30 in August.  So, our repeat environment seemed a bit dreary in comparison to the first.

To add to this dismal atmosphere, once we found a vacant table in the Mall of America food court, a maintenance man had a seizure. Our five-year old granddaughter sat with her mouth gaping open as my husband rushed to assist the fallen, convulsing man and I dashed to the nearest concession for assistance in calling the mall emergency line.  Once we and Tink were assured he’d be okay, our cold food didn’t seem very appetizing, so we whisked her off to Nickelodeon Universe.  There, we would have to have fun in a hurry.  We only had time for three rides.

Since Minnesota time moves according to the thickness of molasses — teenage amusement ride attendees move much slower in January.  By the time we got on and off the Merry-Go-Round, we only had time for one more ride.  Tink’s selection: the Hot Air Balloons.  We thought we remembered the entrance location.  We didn’t.  Grandparent’s minds work slower in January, too.  We walked the perimeter of the indoor park one and a half times before we found it — at the hour we should have taken her home.

While we stood in line, I asked if she’d like both of us to ride with her or just Papa, since I joined her on the Merry Go Round.  “Just Papa,” she said.  “Otherwise, who’s going to take pictures?”

The attendant had a broken foot. Oh no!  The good news: the ride held approximately 20 big and little people.  The bad news: Tink and Grandpa were  customers 21 and 22.  After 12 and a half excruciatingly slow rotations, they boarded.

Tink had a funny incident descending the American Girl Doll escalator before, so I was happy for her uneventful ride with Grandpa.

After 12 and a half more flights around the pole and 25 blurry pictures, we swept Tink off to the nearest escalator to the ice cream concession.  No time to ask what dessert she preferred.

As we enjoyed our sweets, a little girl, about seven, sat beside Tink.   Obviously, a serious dance competitor or child beauty contestant  in her short sequined dress and giant bow, the girl polished a small trophy, hoping to win Tink’s adulation.  Unsuccessful, she batted her false eyelashes — the ones below her blue eyeshadow, and above cheeks of rouge.

“Oh, brother,” I thought, “Tink’s parents are going to kill us if Tink decides she needs make-up or false anything.”

Luckily, Tink’s half of a mint ice cream chocolate cookie sandwich won her adulation instead.

Even though we knew it was late, we couldn’t forego the dollar store sibling gifts.  Tink selected a bottle top necklace kit for sibling number one, a paint set for her younger sister, miniature dinosaurs for her toddler brother, and Tinkerbell coloring pages for herself.  She even found Valentine candy for her parents.  (Coincidentally — Tink’s favorites.)

As we drove her home, I thought about how Tink had rarely been anywhere without a sibling.  I’m sure it seemed weird, riding alone in the dark back seat with Grandpa and Grandma up front, so I turned and mouthed “I love you” with each passing mile — amidst insincere, giggly protests.

We thought Grandpa and I would be grounded for missing Tink’s curfew by an hour, but her parents were surprisingly calm.  The whole family swarmed us as Tink proudly distributed her gifts.

Tink and Katie hugged — an atypical occurrence. “Do you like your present?” Tink asked.

“I LOVE it,” Katie gushed.

Tink beamed. Grandpa beamed. Grandma beamed.

Hmmm…Strategic spontaneity still works — even when it’s a repeat performance in the dark.

Strategic Spontaneity

We’re not sure how our oldest grandchild morphed into a social seven-year-old, but it caught us off-guard.  Her maturation snuck by us so quickly. To our hearts’ discontent — gasp — she now prefers playing with her friends over hanging with her grandparents.

We have two choices: 1.) wallow in self-pity, mourning the passing of the once-glorious moments she clung to our legs in worship or 2.) thank God for those memories and revel in her marvelous, normal development.

We chose Door #2.

Really, she hasn’t outgrown us.  She’s simply distracted.  Staying present amongst the diversions in our grandchildren’s  lives will simply require more creativity.  So, my husband and I formulated a strategic plan, incorporating  a tradition of semi-annual Grandpa and Grandma “dates” when each of our grandchildren will be the center of our universe.

We’ve only completed one Grandpa and Grandma Date and we’ve already determined that these modest events will soar among the highlights of our lives. 

During our first official date, our granddaughter (Ms. Social) selected dinner at A&W Root Beer and shopping as her excursion. She held our hands and skipped, often lifting her feet, so that we could swing her through the air. To encourage selflessness — and because children are starving in Bangladesh (we are cheapskates) — we took her to the dollar store to shop for her siblings. We worried she would consider us miserly.  Instead, she glowed, as if she had inherited a treasure. She carefully searched out the perfect stuffed animal for her toddler brother, an art apron for her pre-school sister, and window decals for her kindergartner sister.

She brought her own money to purchase eye glasses for her nearsighted doll.  We helped her do inventory of her pennies and nickels and Grandpa slipped in some extra change to cover her selection.


She declined amusement park rides, getting sidetracked by an ice cream/cookie sandwich.

When we dropped her off at her home she proudly distributed her gifts — a consolation for the formerly sad siblings who wanted to go on the first first date.

While we admired her admiring her bespectacled doll, Ms. Social whispered, “I love you, Grandma.  I love you, Grandpa.” This led me to skip–even though Grandpa couldn’t swing me when I lifted my feet.

Since then, we’ve decided to be proactive with our grown children and our friends as well — diligent in designing more quality interaction rather than hoping the moments will spontaneously occur.