Shari Della Penna
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"Small acts of kindness can change and humanise our world."
   Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks 1948-2020
   ​Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, 1991-2020
                         Author, Advocate, Advisor

And To Think it All Started on Mulberry Street

2/27/2018

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"Today you are you! That is truer than true!
There is no one alive... ...who is you-er than you!
Shout loud, “I am lucky to be what I am!
Thank goodness I’m not just a clam or a ham
Or a dusty old jar of sour gooseberry jam!
I am what I am! That’s a great thing to be!
If I say so myself,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!
                                                 from “Happy Birthday to You”
                                                           a poem by Dr. Seuss

       Theodore Seuss Geisel gave the world a gift. His silly rhymes, his made up words, his unexpected rhythms have kept children and the grown-ups who read to them entertained since 1937 when he published And to Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street.
       My Aunt Judy gave me The Cat in the Hat for my birthday the year I learned to read. I surprised myself by being able to read the whole thing. She knew I could do it. After all, she was a first grade teacher.
       Her thoughtful gift gave me a feeling of accomplishment and a love of reading that grew into a love of sharing with others. It grew from reading to my little brother to reading to my children then reading to young library listeners and my own grandchildren.
       Of course, my girls were “Thing One” and “Thing Two” in the most affectionate way. Of course, I renewed The Sneeches from the library so many times that I bought it. Of course, we celebrated Dr. Seuss’s birthday on March 2 at the library every year.
       Of course, I cried when I found out Ted Geisel passed away.
       Dr. Seuss was a good man. Since he was too old to be drafted, he joined the army and served in the education division during World War II. He fought antisemitism and racism and isolationism with his political cartoons.
       He spoke out against prejudice in his children’s books, too. Especially when the Whos from Who-ville remind us “A person’s a person no matter how small.” He wrote The Butter Battle Book, an antiwar commentary as fierce as any that has been written. And, of course, we all learned that Sneetches are Sneetches whether they are star-bellied or plain-bellied.
       His Lorax fought for the environment by saving the truffula trees. 
       The Grinch learned about love and taught us that sharing kindness is better than any material gift we can give. 
       It is appropriate that I will be traveling this year on Friday. We’re going to celebrate my daughter’s and my oldest grandson’s birthdays.
       I’m glad Dr. Seuss’s birthday comes in the middle of our own birthday season!
                                                                   --stay curious!
                                                                                       
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Birthday Season

2/20/2018

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​i’d like some wishes on my birthday
i’d like some kisses on my birthday
i’d like some berries on my birthday
and tiny sandwiches with soup.
                                                     from when’s my birthday?
                                                                 by Julie Fogliano
                                               illustrated by Christian Robinson
                                     Neal Porter/Roaring Brook Press, 2017
 
      Just as schedules get back to normal around January, Birthday Season begins. We celebrate all five grandchildren, one daughter, and one son-in-law who have birthdays from the beginning of February to the middle of April. That’s seven birthdays (and one anniversary) in about ten weeks. Then we slow down with two each in May and June. Then we catch our collective breath until October.
       My birthday is three days before my mom’s. I was a grown up celebrating my own childrens’ birthdays by the time I realized that Mom was still in the hospital for the birthday she celebrated right after I was born.
       She never called me out for being her special birthday baby. We were all special to her (and my dad). Her birthday fell into the background, but we always celebrated it.  
       My mom loved to bake and she was really good at it. She made pies and cookies and cake. We had dessert after every dinner. Really.
       Mom was a big proponent of milk-drinking. If we didn’t want cereal for breakfast, she’d entice us to eat by offering last night’s leftover dessert. Some mornings we’d have cookies or cake with a glass of milk before school. Now I like eggs, oatmeal, or yogurt for breakfast. I drink my coffee black. But I digress.
       Mom was not only a great baker, she liked to decorate cakes and was really good at that, too.
       I remember one cake, especially. It was a tiered cake, shaped like a wedding cake. Icing dolls sat on every other layer as if they were sitting on chocolate benches. They had lacy dresses in different colors. Their beautiful faces smiled out birthday greetings just for me!
        I don’t remember creating anything special for my girls, but we always had birthday cake.  And they both grew up with Mom’s passion and talent. A couple of years ago, one grandchild had a golf ball cake sitting on a manicured green. The current birthday cake is a blue unicorn, complete with a golden horn made of fondant. My girls are creative and their kids don’t hesitate to ask for complicated cake creations.
       Growing up, our birthday season was October/November when my brother, sister, and I celebrated birthdays along with Mom, an aunt, grandfather (Dad’s dad) and grandmother (Mom’s mom). I think lots of families have birthday clusters. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the way the stars align.
       I do know there is a time and a season for all things under heaven and this Birthday Season is just getting started.  
                                                                   --stay curious!
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All You Need is Love

2/13/2018

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E. B. White
celebrated life through
a mouse’s journey,
the pact between an pig and a spider,
and the power of words.
He basked in the seasons,
the peace of the barn,
the beauty of the world.
His stories capture the glory of nature
and the comfort of hope.
           from: A Boy, a Mouse, and a Spider: The Story of E. B. White
                                                  written by Barbara Herkert
                                                   illustrated by Lauren Castillo
                   Christy Ottaviano Books/Henry Holt and Company, 2017
 
       E. B. White taught children (and the adults who read to them) about love in his stories about Ralph S. Mouse, loving friendships in Charlotte’s Web and the unending love of parents for their children in The Trumpet of the Swan.
       Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Back in the days when my husband and I exchanged gifts, it meant chocolate and flowers. Since chocolate goes right to my hips and his belly, and the cats eat flowers, we tend to express our affection in more subtle ways.
       Many of the small (and large) chores (that have become habits over the years) go without thanks from me. So here’s a valentine Thank You for someone who does much.
  • Washing my car (even when I don’t think it *really* needs it)
  • Doing laundry (even when bright colors go in hot water and sometimes the dryer)
  • Making sure the driveway and sidewalks are clear even on the snowiest and coldest days
  • Organizing the income taxes
  • Sticking on the new license plate stickers
  • Digging out thistles in the garden (especially the really big, thorny ones)
  • Digging holes for new perennials (that didn’t look *that* big in the garden store)
  • Gently waking me up (after the movie) and suggesting the bed is more comfortable than the couch
and for the kind looks and the kind words and the kind thoughts (I hear them in my mind’s ear.)
       After more than thirty years (33 last December) of marriage, I’m finally learning that the really important part of life is taking care of each other, with a softer, gentle love: sharing a smile, remembering a quiet, happy memory, playing with our grandchildren.
                                                                    -stay curious!
           
             

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Sports, Shmorts

2/6/2018

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     ​The music started. 
     [Boomer] tumbled. He tangled. He toppled. He flew . . .
right through the ceremonial flame.
     He got the lowest score in [Summer] Olympic history.
     Mr. Hamstring croaked, “Any final words for our viewers at home?”
     “Well, Hammy, maybe I didn’t win a gold medal today,” said Boomer, “but I realized something very important. I realized. . .today has been terrific practice for the Winter Olympics!”
                             Olympig! The Triumphant Story of an Underdog
                                 written and illustrated by Victoria Jamieson
                                          Dial Books for Young Readers, 2012
 
       I’ve never been much about sports. (See a few previous posts, if you want: Football Memories 2/8/16, Heart of a Champion 8/2/16 and Cleveland, Ohio 7/19/16.) The High School Band was always a bigger draw for me than the game. Of course, my girls were in the band and I didn’t have any children on the football team, or any other team, for that matter. My younger daughter had a brief time on a soccer team, but that’s a different story.
       This week is a sports trifecta, though.
       Last Monday, a Major League Baseball statement announced that Chief Wahoo, mascot of the Cleveland Indians, will be retired after the 2018 season. The team has been moving away from the Chief by replacing his image with a block-style “C” on road caps (2011) and batting helmets (2013). Cleveland is stepping up to the plate and doing the right and sensitive thing.
       The Super Bowl will start just hours from now. Football always feels like a violent sport. So much smashing and falling and piling on each other. I have a good book, (The Wonderling, by Mira Birtok, Candlewick Press, 2017). It’s about discovering one’s destiny and finding one’s place in the world. I’ll read while my husband watches the game.
       I *do* have a football connection. I worked at the Wilson football factory in Ada, Ohio during my ex-husband’s last year at Ohio Northern University. My brother sent me a link to a great story about the factory. Here it is: http://www.wkyc.com/article/sports/nfl/superbowl/did-you-know-super-bowl-footballs-are-made-in-a-small-ohio-town/95-513292475 (See also the reference above to Football Memories.)
       More than 100 million people will be tuned in this year. I’ll probably look up for the commercials, although I haven’t heard any hype about them this year. Thirty-second ads will cost companies $5 million dollars, ten times the price of a 30-second ad during Game 7 of the 2016 World Series. That’s a lot of Pepsi! or Coke! or beer!
       All eyes will turn to PyeongChang, South Korea on Friday as the Winter Olympics Games begin. The big news for me is that North and South Korea will have a joint Women’s Field Hockey team. I’m not sure how that will impact world peace or nuclear de-escalation or the Games.
       Five is symbolic. The five continents are united by athletic competitions. The five rings are made of colors found in flags of all participating nations. Races, nations, religions, genders and cultures. are connected in their passion for sports.
       So while the world's focus turns to sports of all kinds, I’ll go about my days doing what I do: volunteering at a local diaper bank, making an eye-doctor appointment and staying in touch with friends and family.
                                                                   --stay curious!             
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         I'm a children's writer and poet intent on observing the world and nurturing those I find in my small space .

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