I was going to make a long post about metaphor and writing again for today, but I’ve decided to talk about something far more personal and simple instead. My favorite children’s book.
The story revolves around an old woman, a mother of three strapping boys, who one day comes across a most gorgeous painting in the market where she sells her weavings. She resolves that she must live in a place like that or surely die, but the youngest son suggests she instead weave the palace in the painting. She finds this a reasonable compromise, and spends many years on the task, much to the chagrin of her older, lazier sons.
No sooner does the woman complete her tapestry, however, than a wind rips through her house and steals the weaving away. It is up to the brothers to go and fetch it back for her, before her broken heart kills her.
In the tradition of fairy tales and repetitions of three, it is not surprising that the two older sons fail to fulfill their oaths, but the trials the youngest must face are truly what make this story stand out to me. It is a wonderful read, with absolutely stunning images, and a treat for any who open its pages.
I can only hope I can write that simply, yet beautifully in the end… and draw like that. Oh, if there was an artist to learn from for me, it would be Marilee Heyer!
What was, or is, your favorite children’s book?