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

Crossing the Line

6/26/2018

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A line is thin. A line is narrow --
curved like a worm, straight as an arrow.


A line is a jump rope, black ants in a row,
a tug-of-war game and a violin bow,
a tall pole for fishing, a leash and a trail,
a kite string, a shoelace, a whisker, a tail.


                              from: When a Line Bends . . . A Shape Begins
                                                    by Rhonda Gowler Greene

                                                 Illustrated by James Kaczman
                                               Houghton Mifflin Company, 1997

     I had boundaries when I was a child. My children had boundaries, too. I’m sure my grandchildren know just how far from home or how far down the driveway or how far ahead is far enough. Past that point, someone will call them back, a parent or grandparent no doubt.
    All the kids on my street played together when we were growing up. Lots of times, the central point was my backyard, but I was allowed to go to my friends’ houses, too. I was allowed to ride my bike to the pool. I think we had a six-block limit on Halloween.
    The point of those boundary lines was to make sure my parents knew where we were. We could stray, but not too far. We could explore as long as someone knew where to find us. My brother had very generous boundaries. He rode miles and miles from home with a friend or two exploring our city parks. This was suburban Cleveland in a time before cell-phones. My parents trusted him (and the rest of the world). He had a time limit, though. And as far as I can remember, he always met it.
    I can describe my childhood personality in one word, shy. I wasn’t fearful or timid, really. I just liked to feel secure in my surroundings. I liked to know where I was going and who I was with. 
    Once, I did get lost. Mom and I were shopping for school clothes, one of my least favorite chores. I did not like anything Mom picked out. The clothes I liked never fit as well as they did in my mind’s eye. So there we were, looking at skirts and blouses in the size, even as a young child, I hated to admit was the one that fit. I didn’t like any of the choices, so I wandered. Of course the racks were over my head. I could not see out and my mom could not see me. 
    When I realized I was lost, I panicked. I did not cry and I did not holler for my mom. I sat down in the middle of an aisle in despair, and wondered how I would take care of myself. I was so sure I’d be lost forever. I don’t know why I had that thought, but I know I did. 
    Looking back, it doesn’t make any sense. My mom loved me. On some level I knew we would be reunited, and we were. But right then, in that store full of strange people and ugly clothes, nothing made sense. My fears were unfounded.
    But what if they weren’t? What if I found myself alone, in a strange place full of strange people wearing ugly clothes? Speaking a strange language? Asking strange questions that I didn’t understand? 
    What if?
    Last week, I called my senators and representatives. I left a message with one and spoke to office staff of the two others. My daughter advised calling them again and again and again. Until this problem is solved. 
    I will.
    Here are the links, so you can make a difference, too.       https://www.senate.gov/general/contact_information/senators_cfm.cfm               
www.house.gov/representatives/find-your-representative
It is easy. And important, I think. Maybe, if we make enough noise, someone will hear.
                                                —stay curious (and connected)!
I'm really enjoying The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd. It is a fictionalized biography of Sarah Grimke who was an abolitionist and an advocate for women's rights in the early 1800s. The book's greatest strength is characterization.

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The Longest Day

6/19/2018

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Around the world
kids dream of tomorrow
and all the possibilities
of just
one day
                                                     from One World, One Day
                                                    
written by Barbara Kerley
                    most of the photographs were chosen by the author
                                           National Geographic Society, 2009


    Even though we say a day is 24 hours long, the real number is
23 hours and 56 minutes, (86,400 seconds). Smart people at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, England, keep us all on track. They’re located at the Prime Meridian and everyone’s time is measured from there. It’s been that way since 1675 in England and 1883 in the United States.
     On November 1, 1884, GMT (Greenwich Mean Time) was adopted universally at the International Meridian Conference in Washington, DC. The International Date Line was drawn up at that conference and the 24 time zones were created. If you want to know more about all that, go here: https://greenwichmeantime.com/what-is-gmt/ 

    As we approach the Summer Solstice, we experience the most hours of daylight and the least amount of darkness. About 5,000 years ago, Ancients in what is now England began building Stonehenge to mark the solstice sunrise. It is believed that work was completed 1,500 years later! 
    Halfway around the world in the Egyptian desert, the sun sets exactly between twin pyramids at the end of each summer solstice. 
    This Thursday, when you look up you’ll see the sun at its highest point in the arc between sunrise and sunset. (If it’s a sunny day.) Wear sunglasses!
    The first day of Summer! 
    This week is also National Pollinator Week. Bees and butterflies and all kinds of bugs and other pollinators will have lots of daylight. They'll work hard so we have food. Here are some interesting facts about pollinators and pollination: pollinator.org/assets/generalFiles/Pollination-Fast-Facts-General-2018.pdf 

  • About 75% of all flowering plant species need the help of animals to move their heavy pollen grains from plant to plant for fertilization.
  • About 1,000 types of pollinators are vertebrates such as birds, bats, and small mammals.
  • Most pollinators (about 200,000 species) are beneficial insects such as flies, beetles, wasps, ants, butterflies, moths, and bees.
  • In the U.S., pollination produces nearly $20 billion worth of products annually.
    While the pollinators work hard, I plan to take it easy! After the predicted rain comes through on Wednesday, my backyard should be very pleasant. 
    Summer was always a carefree time for me. Although I didn’t ever really get the hang of roller skating, and we didn’t have a swing set in our yard, I liked to ride my bike to the neighborhood pool, play freeze tag and “Mother May I?” and “Stone Teacher” with the neighborhood kids. Do kids even do that anymore? I liked to jump rope and play jacks and draw with sidewalk chalk. I liked hopscotch. 
    I probably won’t do any of those activities on the Summer Solstice this year. My celebration will be much more relaxed and quiet. I heard that the hummingbirds are back. Maybe I’ll sit outside and watch for them a while.
                                                                   —stay curious!​

I really enjoyed Varina by Charles Frazier. I’m reading Tiny Infinities by J. H. Diehl. It’s about a young girl who babysits her mute next-door-neighbor and hears her speak her first word in 6 years. It’s also about dysfunctional families and swim meets. A lot to pack in a book for 8-12 year olds, but it works!
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Wanna Trade?

6/12/2018

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    “Well. . .” said Jack.
    The old man closed his hand around the beans. “Perhaps you’re not the smart boy I took you for,” he said. “Well, it’s no matter.” He put his hand back into his pocket.
    “No, wait” cried Jack. “I’ll do it!”
    And quick as a wink, the swap was made.
                                                from: Jack and the Beanstalk
                                                      retold by Susan Pearson
                                                  Illustrated by James Warhola
                        Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, 1989

       Growing up, it seemed like there was always something to trade. My friend’s doll clothes were cuter than mine. She thought the same, so we’d trade. Sometimes we traded back. I liked red Pop-Sicles best of all. If my brother or sister or neighborhood kid had red, I’d always ask to trade. Sometimes someone would. 
       Our local library has a coupon swap. It’s on-going. If I have a coupon I know I won’t use, I bring it in and take one that’s useful to me. 
       My husband just told me some guy down the street offered to do a small job for him in exchange for a small item he needs that my husband doesn’t. 
       That’s how trading works. Give something, usually that you don’t want or can’t use or doesn’t fit, for something you *do* want or *is* useful and fits like a glove.
       And everyone wins and everyone’s happy.
       When I was in college, I took a required course in Basic Economics. I didn’t excel and I don’t remember very much, but I was fascinated. 
       Supply and demand made perfect sense. Rare stuff costs more than stuff that is plentiful. 
       A society agrees on the worth various items. Some have great value: diamonds, truffles, higher education. Some not so much: plastic, water, farm and domestic labor. (no value judgements, here.)
       The guns and butter description of the difference between domestic needs and foreign goods is another important economic concept. Although I hate the terms and what they imply, (of course, guns more than butter!) I do get the gist of the implications.
       And so most of our trade involves money these days. Our society determines that even though a $1 bill costs about 5.6 cents to print and stays in circulation for less than 6 years, it is worth much less than a $100 bill which costs about 13.2 cents to print and stays in circulation for 15 years.  
      
https://www.federalreserve.gov/faqs/currency_12771.htm 
       In short, money is worth what a society agrees it is worth.
       Seems like a fair exchange in the world market would take into account several factors: 
            The scarcity or abundance of the components (or grain or oil or aluminum ore…)
            How difficult or easy something is to produce or provide
            Whether (or not) the people producing the items or harvesting the foodstuffs or extracting the ore are paid a fair wage
            The cost of transportation

       I’m sure much more goes into the final price you and I pay for stuff, but, really, is it that hard to imagine a world where people are paid fairly, resources are shared so no one starves, and new technology is encouraged to promote a clean and healthy environment for our one and only Earth? 
       I’m not so sure about my own generation, but I do have great faith in the future! 
       Go grandkids!
              
       I’m almost finished with Varina (Charles Frazier). He shows an interesting perspective, that of Jefferson Davis’s wife, and moves back and forth through time from just before the Civil War to about the 1870s. I hope his portrayal of her is accurate. It is historical fiction.
                                                                   —stay curious!
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That Takes the Cake!

6/5/2018

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“Well, you can’t have your cake
And eat it too,” said Miss Edwards. 
“What good is having a cake 
If you can’t eat it?” Said Amelia Bedelia.
“Good point” said Miss Edwards.
She cut the cake into even slices.
Everyone enjoyed the treat.
This time, they could
Have their cake 
And eat it, too!
                                        from: Amelia Bedelia Takes the Cake
                                                     written by Herman Parish
                                                        pictures by Lynne Avril
                                                       Greenwillow Books, 2016

       Three years ago, June 9, 2015, I posted my first blog. I knew posting regularly would help me form a writing habit. I only hoped I had something to say.  
       A blog about children’s literature seemed logical. But so much of what seems logical doesn’t work out for one reason or another. And although I’ve tried hard to choose interesting quotations from familiar and unfamiliar children’s books, past and present, my mind is a mysterious thing.
       I try to be current and relevant. Sometimes I am. 
       I will not celebrate my blogiversary with cake. I didn’t even know I would write about cake until about 9:15 a..m. yesterday when I heard a story on NPR about the Supreme Court’s decision about the cake baker. He did not want to provide a wedding cake for a gay couple’s wedding celebration.
       Turns out, according to most of the most thoughtful and wisest minds in the United States, a shop owner is allowed to turn away a customer if said customer wants something the shop owner doesn’t want to provide. Not that he is not able to, just that he doesn’t want to. It could be because it goes against a particular conviction he or she is predisposed to. It could be because it doesn’t conform to his or her belief system. It could be because it sticks in his or her craw for any reason at all. 
       So the question that was NOT answered was, “Is this a matter of self-expression (which is protected by the Constitution) or a matter of discrimination (against which we are also protected)?
       Whose right is more right? I, with my little brain and no training in Constitutional Law, decided and re-decided what was right many, many times. 
       For any creative person, including a cake artist, expression is a primary goal. It seems, though, once a price is expected for a creative work, compromise must come into play. A decision to purchase an item rests in the hands and purse of the buyer. 
       If the artist doesn’t care about or need compensation, can he or she post a sign stating that? “I won’t make a cake for you if you are celebrating something I think is wrong”? The decision handed down yesterday doesn’t clarify that.
       Can a shop owner who wants to sell merchandise or provide a service select who is permitted to purchase said item or service? If a sign is posted, consumers will know to go elsewhere. 
       Posting signs makes my heart think of The South of the 1950s and Nazi Germany. Shop owners were selective then, and look where that led.
       So unless our society is willing to modify our definition of “human being,” someone who selectively chooses which customers to serve is practicing discrimination. An open door must be open, wide. 
      At the beginning of my fourth blog-year, even though children’s literature is not often my topic, that is where my focus resides. I’ll continue to send you quotes of inevitable Truth told by main characters or wise narrators. I’ll continue to look for interesting (for me and I hope for you) topics and ideas. 
       I’ll continue to hone my creativity and express thoughts on as many sides of as many issues as I can. 
I’m reading Varina by Charles Frasier
                                                                   —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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