Pigeon Post

With our power and technology, our instant communication all the time anywhere and our huge stores of knowledge and information virtually at our fingertips, we become more and more insulated from the vicissitudes of life and nature. Famines are in remote places, plagues are (mostly) a thing of the past. We berate ourselves if after a fire, tornado or hurricane, things are not returned to normal, better and renewed, within a year.

The Archbishop of Canterbury was recently complaining, "There is something about western modernity which really does eat away at the soul." But the issue is not Western, it is modern. All across the globe as societies become wealthier, they become more urbanized, and they become more isolated from the happenstance of weather and fate. It inescapably builds our confidence and erodes our humility.

As adults, we become wrapped up in thinking ahead, contingency planning, preparing for the best and worst. These steps are part of what allows us to be successful. These are also activities that do not come naturally to children. Cause and effect are a relationship that only becomes apparent to them over time as are the concepts of responsibility and outcome.

Children don't know any of this at first and it is part of why they experience life with an intensity that is hard for adults to recapture. Visual intensity, sense of smell, emotional intensity. We older ones have become accustomed to the emotional buffetings of the world, so accustomed we no longer notice them. Like the noise of a train near a house; when you first move in it's a constant distraction and within a month you don't even realize it's there.

For children everything is new and fresh. Life is full of wonder, terror, awe, and magic.

We approach the holy season, a time in the year when most of the major religions mark some of their most pivotal events. Behind the liturgy and the traditions, behind the barrage of commerce, behind all of this is an invitation to renew the ties of our own lost sense of wonderment and celebrate that wonder with our children. A time to re-explore the primal sense of reverence, awe, and incomprehension.

As a parent I take every opportunity to try and remind the kids as they grow older to look at things with fresh eyes. It is a delicate balance between imagination and practicality. How do you distinguish being open-minded (good) from being empty-minded (bad)? It is so much easier when they are younger.

But not always. Some years ago when my youngest was about six years old, we were living in Britain. As I had lived in England as a child in the sixties as well as in the seventies, I had my own list of places I remembered as being especially fascinating; Madame Tussaud's, Stonehenge, Tintangel.

Late in November the kids had a three-day weekend and so we headed off to Devon and Cornwall. Tintangel, though actually a twelfth century castle, is the reputed location of King Arthur's court. It is an inspiring site: many ancient, weathered walls and buildings precariously perched on a steep headland jutting dramatically out into the Atlantic and overtopping a mysterious grotto of wave-gouged caverns.

The day we visited started out cold, wet, grey and overcast. By the time we reached Tintagel, though, it was only intermittently sprinkling us and, with a fresh steady wind off the Atlantic, we were treated to periodic outbreaks of blue sky. It was what counts as a beautiful autumn day in November in England.

We had explored the various walled areas of the castle and had crossed over to a mesa-like protrusion, rising with sheer walls of crumbling rock a couple of hundred feet above the crashing Atlantic waves but topped with a three or four acre patchy grass field. As we clambered up over one of the ridges to get to this field, of a sudden, a very large grey and silver-white seagull, gliding on the wind, banked and alighted on the ridge not fifteen feet in front of us. He perched there, a depthless black eye cocked towards us, teetering somewhat in the 20 mile an hour wind rushing over him, pushing down on us. As you looked up at him on the ridge line, so close, swaying in the wind, bright blue sky behind him studded with huge dark clouds skidding by, it was impossible not to feel the magic of the moment.

I was helping my six year old who was very focused on his handholds and feet gripping the rock. I leaned over to him and whispered dramatically, "Look up there. Do you see it? Do you think it might be the spirit of some ancient knight of the round table, returned to guard Tintagel?" My little engineer looked up at me and said "It's a seagull, Daddy!"

Some lose their innocence earlier than others.

So in this holy season it is a time when we should consider pulling ourselves out of the routine and the mundane. It is so easy to get wrapped up in squeezing in that one last project at work, the last business trip, the last Christmas shopping trip. So easy to accidentally convey to our children that it is all tactical, mechanistic, and, well, ordinary.

Regardless of the specifics of your religion, how do we as parents create an environment where these emotions of awe and reverence can be acknowledged and celebrated?

As the White Queen in Through the Looking Glass tells us, it is a matter of practice.

'I can't believe THAT!' said Alice.

'Can't you?' the Queen said in a pitying tone. 'Try again:
draw a long breath, and shut your eyes.'

Alice laughed. 'There's no use trying,' she said: 'one CAN'T
believe impossible things.'

'I daresay you haven't had much practice,' said the Queen.
'When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day.
Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things
before breakfast!"

The King James Bible is full of some of the most wonderful language, often times so far beyond real comprehension that the focus is all on the majesty of the words. For example, from Isaiah Chapter 6:

In the year that king Uzziah died I saw also the LORD sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple.

Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings; with twain
he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with
twain he did fly.

And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the
LORD of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory.

And the posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried,
and the house was filled with smoke.

Picture Books

Grandfather Twilight by Barbara Helen Berger Highly Recommended

Christopher's Harvest Time by Elsa Beskow Recommended

A Small Miracle by Peter Collington Highly Recommended

King Midas and the Golden Touch by Charlotte Craft and illustrated by Kinuko Craft Recommended

Carl's Masquerade by Alexandra Day Highly Recommended

Because I Love You by Max Lucado and illustrated by Mitchell Heinz Recommended

Silver Packages by Cynthia Rylant and illustrated by Chris K. Soentpiet Highly Recommended

The Whales' Song by Dyan Sheldon and illustrated by Gary Blythe Highly Recommended

A Time to Keep by Tasha Tudor Highly Recommended

Oscar Wilde's the Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde and Elissa Grodin and illustrated by Laura Stutzman Recommended

Independent Reader

Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie and illustrated by Scott Gustafson Recommended

The Nutcracker by E. T. A. Hoffmann and illustrated by Roberto Innocenti Recommended

Norman Rockwell's Faith of America by Fred Bauer illustrated by Norman Rockwell Suggested

The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis Highly Recommended

The Holy Bible Illustrated by Barry Moser Recommended

Young Adult

Holy Terrors by Janetta Rebold Benton Suggested

Hieronymus Bosch by Hieronymus Bosch and Larry Silver Suggested

The Book of Kells by Bernard Meehan Suggested

At this time of year, the chaos of creativity tends to reach some sort of high water mark in our household. There are so many crafts associated with Christmas; baking, cooking, decorating the house, making new decorations, piano playing with carol singing, etc. The kids get out of school and take a deep fresh breath of doing things on their own and not at someone else's beck and call.

One son has an especial aptitude for creating the most amazing things out of the most mundane materials. Last week he made a faux Tazer out of some cardboard, trash wire and black paint (and then spent a fair amount of time threatening his siblings with it.)

It is truly startling to me both how gripped children can be by the visual and how attentive and retentive they can be of what they are seeing. It is also startling just how brimming with native talent they can be. At our children's school there are long halls covered with art work from the earliest grades. Walking down those halls there are many examples of the artwork for which you understand why parents are the appreciative audience. But there seem to be also a disconcerting number of paintings, drawings and crafts that bespeak a level of talent that is astonishing.

Children imbibe their world through all their senses but especially through their eyes.

Growing up, we moved about frequently and therefore my parent's personal library of books was somewhat constrained in number. There was however, one book that I well remember, down on a shelf in the living room. Partly what made it memorable was its sheer size. It covered my whole lap and more, spilling out to the sides, propping against the arms of the overstuffed chair. I don't know exactly what the nature of the book was, History of the World or Archaeology perhaps. What I do remember were the huge and beautiful illustrations of ancient rock art. There were drawings of giraffes from ancient rock cliffs in the middle of the Sahara; paintings, beautifully colored and apparently as fresh as if they were done yesterday, from caves in France and Spain; the peculiarly stylized but fascinating Egyptian paintings, etc. I would sit for what seemed hours at a time, losing myself from the here and now into these magical portals of yesterday and away. It was an exercise in observation, tracing every detail, hue, and shading of the pictures. But it was also an exercise in imagination - who were they that painted these vignettes from another time and place, what were the circumstances under which they were painted, what would it have been like to be there, could I paint something similar?

Barbara Helen Berger mentions something similar in a keynote speech she made to the Mazza Summer Institute in Ohio in the summer of 1999:

As a child, of course, any distinction between fine art and illustration was totally irrelevant. I simply loved looking at pictures. On walls, or in books. Especially in books. We didn't have so many children's picture books then, nothing like nowadays, but there were illustrated books. My mother, a poet, was great at reading out loud. With her voice providing the music of words, I would gaze at every part of every picture on every page. I did the same with my Dad's big art books, which I pulled from the bottom shelf of the bookcase in the living room. No one was reading out loud to me then, and what child would enjoy all that dry art history anyway? None of that mattered to me. I simply loved sitting there on the sofa alone, legs sticking straight out, the heavy book open across my lap, losing myself in the pictures. Most of them had stories in them, I could tell from the faces and gestures of the people. I recognized some: David and Goliath, Mary and her baby, Venus stepping from her shell. But even when I didn't know what the story was, I could still "read" the picture for itself. And that's what I loved.

Many children's books are in my view, works of art in themselves. But holding that thought in abeyance, there are also many books in which art is some pivotal part of the story. These are great ways for children to not only enjoy but also absorb much knowledge of their wonderful visual heritage. Stories about artists, their works, the process of creating, etc.

Picture Books

Camille and the Sunflowers by Laurence Anholt Suggested

Linnea in Monet's Garden by Christina Bjork and Claude Monet and illustrated by Lena Anderson Recommended

Tell Me a Picture by Quentin Blake Recommended

Come Look With Me by Gladys S. Blizzard Suggested

The Shape Game by Anthony Browne Recommended

Babar's Museum of Art by Laurent de Brunhoff Suggested

Toulouse-Lautrec: The Moulin Rouge And The City Of Light by Robert Burleigh Suggested

Liang and the Magic Paintbrush by Demi Suggested

The Art Lesson by Tomie dePaola Suggested

Round Trip by Ann Jonas Suggested

Painting the Wind by Patricia MacLachlan & Emily Maclachlan and illustrated by Katy Schneider Recommended

Weaving the Rainbow by George Ella Lyon and illustrated by Stephanie Anderson Suggested

Katie Meets the Impressionists by James Mayhew Recommended

Matie's Sunday Afternoon by James Mayhew Recommended

The Fantastic Drawings of Danielle by Barbara McClintock Suggested

Why Is Blue Dog Blue? by George Rodrigue & Bruce Goldstone Suggested

The Sign Painter by Allen Say Recommended

Look! Zoom in on Art by Gillian Wolfe Suggested

Independent Reader

Chasing Vermeer by Blue Balliett and illustrated by Brett Helquist Recommended

Emily's Art by Peter Catalanotto Suggested

The Dinosaurs of Waterhouse Hawkins by Barbara Kerley and illustratde by Brian Selznick Recommended

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg Recommended

The Art of Keeping Cool by Janet Taylor Lisle Suggested

A Picnic With Monet by Julie Merberg and Suzanne Bober Suggested

I Spy Shapes in Art by Lucy Micklethwait Suggested

A Place in the Sun by Jill Rubalcaba Suggested

Degas and the Dance by Susan Goldman Rubin Suggested

The Magic Paintbrush by Laurence Yep and illustrated by Suling Wang Suggested

You Can't Take a Balloon into the Metropolitan Museum by Jacqueline Preiss Weitzman and illustrated by Robin Preiss-Glasser Suggested

Young Adult

Escher on Escher by M. C. Escher and J. W. Vermeulen Suggested

100 Great Artists by Charlotte Gerlings Suggested

Lust for Life by Irving Stone Suggested

The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone Recommended

Our children are growing up in a complex pond where the waters are stirred by religion, government, society and tradition, each being a lever for beneficence or trouble and we as parents trying to steer them as best we can. The holidays bring two of these currents, religion and tradition, together and often it is hard to tell quite where the one begins and the other leaves off.

You only have to look at what would nominally seem very similar pairings of countries such as Britain and the Netherlands to see how big a role tradition can have distinct from culture, religion, etc.. Both countries have somewhat comparable governmental systems, both are Protestant countries with long histories of sea-faring and mercantilism, and there has been much sharing of peoples, culture and even royalty between them over the centuries. Yet, as close as these countries would seem to one another, their Christmas traditions are unmistakably different.

The British traditions are reasonably well known (Santa Claus, stockings by the fireplace, Christmas trees, etc.). Fifty short miles away in the Netherlands, Sinterklaas arrives, not from the North Pole, but from Spain. He arrives not with elves but with Zwarte Pieten (black Peter), and not in a sleigh but in a steamboat. And he arrives not on December 25th but on December 5th.

When I lived in England in the mid to late sixties, it never struck me as particularly odd that England had a national tradition in which the country effectively shut down between Christmas and New Year's. I don't mean slowed down. I mean shut down. Train and bus services were cut dramatically, most stores were not open at all, and those that were had restricted hours. You had better have what you needed for the next couple of weeks because you were unlikely to be able to get anything in the meantime. It was only some years later when I was in the US (where everything is back in full swing again the morning after Christmas) that I realized how distinctive the English shut down was. Four decades on there has been some convergence. In England there is no longer a complete shut-down, but there is certainly still a recognizable lull.

Traditions of the holidays are shaped at a national, local and family level, each subject to surprisingly quick change. Old traditions fade away and new ones arise. Sometimes they fade away only to gain a new lease on life.

When we married, I discovered that Sally's family had a tradition with which I was unfamiliar. On Christmas morning, the objective for each family member was to be the first to cry "Christmas Gift!" to each of the other family members. I happily joined in. Some years later, my mother shared with me an eighty page memoir that my great-grandmother had written in the 1930's, late in her long life. She was a young girl in the 1850's growing up on the banks of the Pearl River in Mississippi. In this memoir she relates her memories of Christmas in those far off years and in describing them she mentions the excitement of trying to creep up on other family members first thing Christmas morning to be the first to shout "Christmas Gift!" So oddly enough, our respective families had once had the same tradition. It had died out in my family but it had stayed alive in hers, and now the rivers of tradition have rejoined.

Each family crafts its own traditions, passing down those most meaningful to them, developing new ones as they go along. One of the beauties of traditions is that they do not necessarily have any grounding in logic. Why do we in our family still put tangerines and walnuts in the kids' stockings? Certainly not because anyone is clamoring for tangerines and walnuts. We do so because we always have. The tangerines always get eaten but not everyone is particularly keen on them. As for the walnuts, those that don't get recycled year to year, end up in the back of some drawer in the kids' rooms or elsewhere. We probably should have marked the hard shell nuts with the original dates of purchase to see just how many Christmases some of them might last.

Each family usually has their particular Christmas cooking traditions, singing traditions, traditions related to when and how gifts are given out, what music is listened to, etc. Cooking in particular marks the season, not only because it is a communal activity where everyone has their role to play in a cooperative effort but because the smells of cooking infuse the house so that the event lingers for days. This is especially the case for the young whose senses are so much more attuned to their environment than ours are.

And in reading families there are the traditional books. We have four boxes of them that live in the attic most of the year and that are brought down in early December (except for those years when the packing away never gets gotten to). It is like a reunion with old friends as the books are removed from their boxes and set upon the shelves cleared for them. Each book has a special resonance to it, calling back the memories and emotions of particular Christmases when they first joined the family.

There are often particular titles that get reread either by individuals or collectively. As our children get bigger and bigger and they do most if not all their reading to themselves, it is the one time in the year we can, as parents. count on pulling their ever larger selves up close to us to read a book where they once sat on our lap.

In our family some of the titles that are each year refreshed with reading and sharing include The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey, The Christmas Candle, The Cajun Night Before Christmas, The Nutcracker illustrated by Maurice Sendak, etc. I have a copy of a book from the Metropolitan Museum of Art from some years ago. It is selected passages from the King James Bible telling the Christmas story matched to medieval and renaissance paintings of the same. I love this book. Each year I try to dragoon one or more kids into sitting and listening to these beautiful passages and feasting their eyes upon such impassioned paintings. Each year I can hold the little barbarians close only for a passage or two before they are off, rolling their eyes. This, too, has become a tradition.

Following are books that are especially evocative of the Christmas season. We think they are especially touching or helpful in communicating and explaining the holiday traditions.

Picture Books

The Jolly Chistmas Postman by Allan and Janet Ahlberg Suggested

Madeline's Christmas by Ludwig Bemelmans Recommended

Christmas Trolls by Jan Brett Suggested

The Twelves Days of Christmas by Jan Brett Suggested

A Small Miracle by Peter Collington Highly Recommended

Carl's Christmas by Alexandra Day Recommended

The Christmas Candle by Richard Paul Evans and illustrated by Jacob Collins Highly Recommended

The Light of Christmas by Richard Paul Evans and illustrated by Daniel Craig Recommended

Cat in the Manger by Michael Foreman Recommended

Wombat Divine by Mem Fox and illustrated by Kerry Argent Recommended

The Elves and the Shoemaker by Paul Galdone Recommended

The Nutcracker by E.T.A. Hoffman and illustrated by Maurice Sendak Recommended

Great Wolf and the Good Woodsman by Helen Hoover and illustrated by Betsy Bowen Recommended

Santa Calls by William Joyce Recommended

I Spy Christmas by Jean Marzollo and illustrated by Walter Wick Suggested

Amahl and the Night Visitors by Gian-Carlo Menotti and illustrated by Michele Lemieux Suggested

The Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore and illustrated by James Rice Suggested

The Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore and illustrated by Christian Birmingham Recommended

The Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore and illustrated by Tasha Tudor Recommended

Rocking Horse Christmas by Mary Pope Osborne and illustrated by Ned Bittinger Recommended

The Cajun Night Before Christmas by James Rice Highly Recommended

Silver Packages by Cynthia Rylant and illustrated by Chris K. Soentpiet Highly Recommended

How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss Highly Recommended

Santa's Snow Cat by Sue Stainton and illustrated by Anne Mortimer Suggested

Look-Alikes Christmas by Joan Steiner and illustrated by Ogden Gigli Suggested

Corgiville Christmas by Tasha Tudor Recommended

The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey by Susan Wojciechowski and illustrated by P. J. Lynch Highly Recommended

Who Is Coming to Our House? by Joseph Slate and illustrated by Ashley Wolff Recommended

Independent Readers

Miracle on 34th Street by Valentine Davies Suggested

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson Recommended

Why Christmas Trees Aren't Perfect by Richard H. Schneider and illustrated by Elizabeth J. Miles Recommended

A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas and illustrated by Fritz Eichenberg Recommended

On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder and illustrated by Garth Williams Recommended

Young Adults

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens and illustrated by Arthur Rackham Highly Recommended

The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams Bianco & Magery Williams and illustrated by William Nicholson Highly Recommended

Silent Night by Stanley Weintraub Suggested