{"id":3645,"date":"2015-01-25T00:01:07","date_gmt":"2015-01-25T06:01:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/?p=3645"},"modified":"2015-01-24T17:22:20","modified_gmt":"2015-01-24T23:22:20","slug":"7-imps-7-kicks-416-featuring-peter-carnavas","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/?p=3645","title":{"rendered":"7-Imp\u2019s 7 Kicks #416: Featuring Peter Carnavas"},"content":{"rendered":"


\n
 

\nToday’s picture book is an import. Peter Carnavas’<\/a><\/strong> Jessica’s Box<\/em> was initially published in Australia back in 2008, but Kane Miller will bring it to U.S. shelves in March. <\/p>\n

When we first meet Jessica, her mind is racing. It’s “too busy for sleep. Her thoughts<\/em> were already with tomorrow.” And that’s because tomorrow will be her first day of school, and she’s eager to make new friends. When she shows up, she brings with her a big cardboard box. By lunchtime, though her box is neglected at first, curious children gather ’round, and Jessica reaches into her box to pull out a stuffed toy bear. The reaction Jessica wants isn’t exactly the one she’s met with: Some students laugh at her, and others ignore her. The next day, Jessica brings cupcakes. Needless to say, the treats are met with enthusiasm, but they’re consumed and forgotten. “Not even a thank you<\/em>?” Jessica wonders. <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Jessica keeps trying, yet she reaches the point of mild despair: “She just wanted to disappear.” So, she puts the box on her head one day. And a boy approaches and befriends her; he thinks she’s playing hide-and-seek. Later at home, when she tells her family she’s finally made a friend, her Grandpa says, “You must have had something very special in your box today.” Jessica smiles and responds, “I did.” (I read this at a bookstore story time yesterday—the story really seemed to get everyone’s attention—and found myself asking the children, “what was<\/em> in her box?” “Her head,” one child said, which made me laugh.) <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I love this sweet, but never saccharine, tale. Jessica’s family at home is warm and loving, yet they never coddle or overprotect her, letting her come to realizations about friendship on her own. In one particularly lovely spread, it was “Dad’s turn to talk to Jessica that night,” and the next illustration shows them outside together (Jessica on his shoulders), just looking into the sky: “They didn’t say very much.” Sometimes silence is best. <\/p>\n

And, as you can see from the illustrations (which are somewhat reminiscent to me of the artwork of Ole K\u00f6nnecke<\/a><\/strong>), rendered with a sunny, warm palette, Jessica is in a wheelchair. Yet the story isn’t some huge “issue” story about her having to overcome her disability or some such. Her lack of friends has nothing to do, in fact, with that, and never once does her wheelchair come up in conversation. I suppose one could argue that<\/em> is why she’s nervous about school, but many children do, indeed, get apprehensive about the first day, wheelchair or not. <\/p>\n

This one’s a gentle story, quiet and wise. It’s a keeper. <\/p>\n


\n
\nJESSICA’S BOX. First American Edition 2015. Text and illustrations \u00a9 2008 Peter Carnavas. Published by Kane Miller, Tulsa, OK. Illustration reproduced by permission of the publisher.<\/em><\/p>\n

Note for any new readers: 7-Imp\u2019s 7 Kicks is a weekly meeting ground for taking some time to reflect on Seven(ish) Exceptionally Fabulous, Beautiful, Interesting, Hilarious, or Otherwise Positive Noteworthy Things from the past week, whether book-related or not, that happened to you. New kickers are always welcome. <\/p>\n

* * * Jules’ Kicks * * *<\/strong><\/font>
<\/center><\/p>\n

1)<\/strong><\/font> I forced this song I heard this week on all my music-lovin’ friends, because I immediately fell in love with it (and only<\/em> listened to it about seven HUNDRED times). <\/p>\n