When Horn's war party found the girl, she was hidden in the corner of the cave, undressed, and past comforting by the wolves who raised her. They had been slaughtered by the Lawspeaker's band or else run off, howling their rage and loneliness. A foundling, surely, filthy, perhaps seven or eight summers old. Horn, the Lawspeaker, growled that she should not join the Storn tribe. A worthless child . . . another mouth to feed in starving times.
In Angie Sage’s world of Magyk, when the seventh son of a seventh son is born to the humble wizard Silas Heap, of course, the new father takes it on himself to fetch healthful herbs from the local wise woman outside the city wall. They’ve only the one room for all the family to share, but it’s a happy place, and the new addition is welcome.
When Silas discovers another newborn child with violet eyes well-wrapped but abandoned in the snow, his heart opens even wider. He knows there will be room for this tiny girl. He is surprised when Marcia, the new ExtraOrdinary Wizard, appears and hurriedly tells him they must treat the child as if she were born to them. A matter of great secrecy. As he rushes home, he is passed by the midwife, carrying another small bundle—his son—wrapped in bandages and wailing that his newborn son Septimus is dead.
- Born on December 8, 1940, in Washington, D.C. to L.G. and Eleanor Schneider
- Received a B.A. in art from Smith College in 1963
- Married Tomas Azarian, a musician, that same year
- Mother of three sons—Ethan, Jesse, and Timothy
- Now resides in Plainfield, Vermont
Mary was raised on a small farm in Virginia, yet her life's road would take her into the New England countryside where she would create folk art that celebrates the region's traditional farming culture. She has illustrated more than 50 books and written several of her own, often employing a 19th-century hand press to create her woodcut designs.
Kwanzaa, celebrated between December 26 and January 1, is a time for families in the African-American community to come together and enjoy their heritage. Unlike many holidays, Kwanzaa was created by one person, Maulana Karenga, in 1966. He named the celebration Kwanzaa, which means "first fruits" in Swahili.
When Nancy Tafuri began her illustrating her own marvelous stories, she had a hard time at first finding a publisher who would believe in her work. Fortunately for the many, many children who have been delighted by her books, Nancy persisted, learning more about her craft while waiting to be published. Her books were successful, and they definitely found their young audiences. Eventually, the New York Times would call Nancy Tafuri “the Queen Mother of Warmly Soothing Animal Bedtime Stories.”
Emma Rowena Caldwell was an intelligent, attractive young woman and a hard worker. Growing up in rural Ohio in the very early 1900s, there wasn’t much opportunity for someone in her circumstances. Born into a poor family with 15 brothers and sisters, she grew up to know farm work, but she also loved to read. At 19, she married 27-year-old, college-educated P.C. Gatewood. It wasn’t very long before the beatings started. And continued.
In 1940, having borne him eleven children and endured near constant torment, she left him. Few outside her community knew the part of her story she left behind her. But everyone across America came to know “Grandma Gatewood,” the first woman to walk the entire Appalachian Trail—more than 2,000 miles—from Georgia to Maine. By herself.
When Frank McCourt passed in 2009, he left behind memoirs filled with anguish, love, and dark merriment. Personal experiences are what this Irish-American author took and shaped into works of sorrowful beauty.
Theresa, better known as Tree, is just at the age when guys are starting to notice her. She doesn’t have any time for them, though. She’s got to get home after school. With her mom working and living somewhere else and no dad they can remember, it’s up to Tree to look after her brother Dab. Dab might be older in years than Tree, but he’s younger inside. Always been that way.
No, Tree doesn’t have time for the boys and men who call her name on the street—until she sees the finest looking young man ever. He doesn’t call her name. He doesn’t say anything at all. The truth of the matter is, Brother Rush, for that is his name, is a ghost.
Marcia Sewall's name can be found on the covers of many books in the library. She has a simple drawing style that conveys the rhythm and characters of the stories without overwhelming them. Whether the subject is something light-hearted, such as Daisy's Taxi, or bold retellings of Thanksgiving history, Marcia's drawings give the books a clarity that works beautifully with their storylines.