How do I know? The Santa Anas hit earlier this week and leaves cover the ground. Mind you, some of leaf litter once belonged to palm trees, and those are a little too large for the non-fiction book and follow-up activity I have in mind.

A few years ago, I happened upon Look What I Did with a Leaf by Morteza E. Soh. Unlike so much of the literature I share with my classes–I have a preference for stories, I’m afraid–this falls into the realm of non-fiction.

But what it does for a child’s imagination!

I typically read Leaf Man by Lois Ehlert first, to let the children see how her illustrations are made. The next day, I drag out this book. They are completely entranced by the animals Soh creates with leaves. The fact that she provides plans with images of the leaves she uses for each animal is a bonus.

My kids start collecting leaves.

I read Ehlert’s book this morning, and leaves gathered in cubbies by this afternoon. I’m very lucky to teach in a small semi-rural district with loads of trees. But even if I didn’t have on-campus access to a variety of leaves, a nature walk through the neighborhood would allow us to gather more.

By the end of the second day, my class is charged up and imagining all sorts of animals they could make with the leaves. Sadly, my schedule doesn’t allow them as much time to play as I would like, but a demonstration and a period of exploration provides a jumping-off point. Many times, that’s enough for them to go home with a handful of leaves to glue down at home.

So to sum up: a beautiful book that inspires children to create art with found materials. What’s not to love?

But hurry. This project is good only as long as leaves cling to trees.

Halloween Bugs is no exception. Like all the other books of his I own, my classes adore his pop-outs. There’s always something a little surprising in his illustrations, along with a good side of humor. Halloween Bugs adds amusement for the adult readers, too. When was the last time you ran into a one-horned, one-eyed spotted people eater bug? (Okay, so it brought back memories of my childhood. Your mileage may vary.)

This year, my class not only clapped, they demanded another re-read. Although the bugs you discover behind every door brought crows of delight, I think their enthusiasm was generated by the final page. As with his other books, David Carter saves the best for last: a graveyard populated with spooky bugs!

I would love this book in a larger size. But even though the images are small, they’re bright and eye-catching.

The bug books are well under $10 a book and well worth the money. A little care will keep those pop-outs popping out from their spooky hiding places for years. I can guarantee that your child or class will be delighted with the time spent reading it aloud.

Don’t be surprised by demands to re-read it on the spot. Or, for that matter, demands to hear all his other bug books!

Friday, they did.

Huggapotamus by Steve Metzger and illustrations by Gabriele Antonini hit a sweet spot for my class. And I’m pretty sure it won’t be the only class to enjoy the tale. Every year I have children who haven’t quite learned the knack of social interaction. They are too touchy or grabby or impulsive, and don’t cue in to others’ discomfort at being touched or grabbed.

This is the perfect book to help them understand.

Albert is a cute little hippo who is loved dearly by his parents and gets big hugs. Hippo hugs.

Hippo hugs work well on hippos, but don’t sit so well with his friends. Benny the lion is naturally upset when Albert’s hug keeps him from scoring. Jasmine the zebra is squeezed a little too hard. And Badge the monkey is just as annoyed as the others.

No one wants to play with Albert after being hugged by him.

As Albert is feeling sorry for himself, he realizes Benny is frozen in a game of freeze tag and rushes off to save him.

Only to skid to a stop before he tramples Benny to ask if he can play, too.

Of course he can. And everyone is so pleased at his new-found ability to control himself, they band together to give him a group hug.

After asking his permission.

My class could related to both Albert and his friends, and I’m sure every single child sitting there has experienced both sides of the problem. Can they apply what they’ve learned yet?

Probably not. But I’m adding this tale to the beginning of the year books, along with my copy of Hands Are Not For Hitting. It might make the year a little easier for everyone. Including me.

(Currently, Huggapotamus is available only through Scholastic Book Clubs, the Firefly September issue. Amazon isn’t sure when it will be available.)

Cue Gorilla by Anthony Browne, originally published in 1983. It was republished in 2002, and I was lucky enough to find a copy a few weeks ago–about the time I was searching for new Mother’s Day and Father’s Day books to augment my collection. (Yes, I found one of each. Imagine, they’re by Anthony Browne, too.)

The illustrations are unique and intriguing, while a number possess a poignancy that is astonishing. The storyline caught my kids the second I read the father was too busy and too tired to take her to the zoo. The room quieted and all eyes were pinned on the book and listening. Every single child could empathize.

Hannah, you see, loves gorillas. She draws them, reads about them, and is desperate to see a real one. But Dad is simply too overwhelmed by work to find the time to take her.

Hannah’s birthday arrives and all she wants is a gorilla.

So imagine her disappointment when she wakes in the middle of the night to find a box at the foot of her bed that contains a small stuffed gorilla. She tosses it into the corner, and magically that gorilla grows and becomes real.

Now she’s a little nervous. But they make friends, snacks ensue, and then they’re off on an adventure that involves the zoo and the gorillas there.

But their journey is not the only magic in this tale because the other half of Dad’s gift is that precious trip to the zoo.

A happy ending, and all the tension my class felt for Hannah’s dilemma resolved on the last page. The journey with the gorilla father-figure was amusing, and the illustrations (gorilla Superman, gorilla Whistler’s Mother) while surreal and subtle, weren’t quite enough to give it an ending that would satisfy.

Dad’s change of heart was.

This is definitely a don’t miss book. Although there is sadness in the tale, it’s not a sadness that children can’t understand or identify with. Our children are strong enough to hear a tale about another’s hurt and anxiety, and Gorilla provides them with a fear that positively resolved.

Of course, we tie eggs into zoo since our zoo trip is rapidly approaching, and one book I use to link wild animals to eggs is Seven Eggs. It also just happens to bring in the days of the week as we hit the math unit on calendar.

How can you go wrong?

Seven Eggs is by Meredith Hooper, with illustrations by Terry McKenna. It’s got a simple, repetitious text, and children learn the pattern and chime in quickly. In the tale, a new animal hatches each day, and introduces the concept that chickens aren’t the only animals to emerge from eggs.

Nope. We also have a penguin, a crocodile, an ostrich, a frilled lizard, a turtle, and a barn owl. Each is realistically drawn in a soft pastel color scheme.

What about the seventh day? Well, that’s a surprise, and nicely linked to the eggs we find sprinkled about our lawns and house on Easter.

My class this year oohed when I showed them the first page–the book design is reminiscent of The Very Hungry Caterpillar. This year’s class also argued that they should be the recipients of the surprise at the end, not me, the reader. I’m sure I’ll be getting a request to hear it again tomorrow.

This story is one I am very pleased to have in my library–I was lucky to find it some years ago. However, when I searched online for links to copies for this review, I was dismayed to find the prices for this particular book ranged to the spectacularly high, and certainly out of the reach of my wallet if I needed a copy. If you’re interested in a copy, your best bet might be eBay or happenstance at a garage sale.

Acquiring the book is well worth your while, especially if you’re interested in widening your library and tying math concepts and science to a holiday.

It’s rough, you know?

Anyone who has had a small child of their own (or taught a group of them) knows, it’s tough to get them to wait.

And it’s even tougher to get them to not interrupt–because, everything, everything is so important, you need to know it right. this. second. no matter what you are doing.

I’ve been dealing with this issue all this year. Hands shoot up, if I’m lucky, and they wait (if I’m REALLY lucky) for me to call names and listen.

But really, it’s so much easier just to interrupt.

So, when I saw Interrupting Chicken by David Ezra Stein on my Scholastic book order last month, I had to order it. Yes, it’s a hard back. But it’s a fantastic book, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.

I have twenty-one kinders who adore it.

The story’s simple. Papa shuffles Chicken off to bed, whereupon Chicken demands a bedtime story. Papa warns little Chicken about interrupting and Chicken promises she will be good. So good.

And she is.

Until Hansel and Gretel are about to enter the witch’s house, and Chicken yells out a warning. So they don’t enter. The End.

Try number two involves Little Red Riding Hood and just as she’s about speak to the wolf, Chicken yells, “Don’t talk to strangers!” So she doesn’t. The End.

Chicken begs Papa for another story, promising she won’t interrupt, but Chicken Little doesn’t warn Henny Penny, Turkey Lurkey, or Ducky Lucky, because… well, Chicken’s interrupted again.

Papa’s out of books and Chicken’s still not sleepy so she reads a story to Papa. One she’s written and illustrated herself.

Papa does the interrupting this time with his snoring.

A delight to read and, judging from my class, a delight to hear. Best of all, however, is the fact that they understand what interrupting is by the end, and now, all I need to ask my just-can’t-wait-to-tell-you students is, “Are you an interrupting chicken?”

And of course, they must admit they are.

Looking for books, of course. This time it’s all about stories that will catch my nieces’ and nephews’ imaginations, regardless of age. It also goes without saying that I usually find something in the speculative field, since that’s what I write personally. Luckily for me, we don’t have that kind of genre distinction in children’s literature.

However, there are exceptions, and I don’t always buy books with any kind of a plot–as evidenced by my recent purchase for one of my young nieces: Cookie Count by Robert Sabuda.

Robert Sabuda is the king of pop-up books in my opinion. He’s got a number of them out–just search his name on Amazon, and they’ll all appear.

The premise of this one–counting cookies, with the help of little mice–makes for a visual treat. The colors are bright and appealing, the cookie choices interesting, and the mechanics of the pop-ups amazing. Pinwheel cookies on a silvery fork that twirls? You can’t beat that for craft.

I initially purchased this for a three-year old who loves it, although she needs someone beside her to ensure she’s careful enough. But another copy is going to find a home in my read-alouds just for sheer joy. It’s semi-Christmas themed, if you consider gingerbread houses Christmas-related, but not so directly that I can’t include children with religious beliefs that do not include holidays.

Plus, it would be fun to make cookies after reading this–and how hard can that be after we’ve made individual pumpkin pies, latkes, and tamales? I’m certainly willing to squeeze in one more food-related activity.

Cookie Count makes a lovely gift for a child, but it’s also a treat for the reader. Particularly if the reader is any kind of engineer and needs to discover the intricacies of pop-ups for him- or herself. This one’s amazing.

So Ll week–lights–I bring out all my Hanukkah- and Jewish-themed literature to share. One of my favorites, which has absolutely nothing to do with the holiday, is Something From Nothing by Phoebe Gilman.

This book is a Jewish folktale and beautifully illustrated. It begins with a wonderful blanket that Joseph’s tailor-grandfather made him when he was born and follows Joseph as he grows–and how the blanket ages with him.

Children all have loved objects, and every single one of them can identify with Joseph’s emotional ties to his blanket and his fierce trust in his grandfather to fix it. When his mother begins her rhyming chant and ends with the words “it’s time to throw it out”, he rushes to Grandfather.

Each time, his grandfather transforms his blanket into something else, breathing new life into the object.

The end, for me, makes the tale, because it draws in the nature of writing and authorship, and how writing is all about making something from nothing.

In addition to the larger illustrations, there’s an entire alternate story told in smaller illustrations at the bottom of the pages. That’s the story of a mouse family who lives under the floorboards at Grandfather’s house and how they utilize the scraps of Joseph’s blanket each time it’s remade. The mouse family grows as Joseph does, and the blanket’s final transformation ends up, of course, in their house.

It’s a warm, delightful tale, with illustrations set in the 19th-20th century era of Eastern Europe, and those tempera paintings bring Joseph’s home and village to life. Definitely recommended, if only as a library checkout–but I’d add it my collection and consider myself the richer for the book.

So before Thanksgiving, I whipped out one of my favorites: Leaf Man by Lois Ehlert. I’m always looking to stretch my kids’ imaginations and this book, in conjunction with Look What I Did with a Leaf! by Morteza E. Sohi does just that.

Ehlert begins with a Leaf Man–one meant to travel on the winds. And that he does, flying over rolling mountains, leaf animals, foliage, and crops. Eye-catching colors and interesting design elements (the page tops curve or zigzag here and there) keep the class focused, as do the illustrations made from leaves. For kinders, the ability to see past the actual object and onto another level can be a learned skill, and they take delight in being able to do just that.

I always remind my class that leaves can be found everywhere. We talk about the different kinds of leaves and acorns that we find on our campus, and that the variety is greater in the community around them. I’ve never followed up with a Leaf Man of our own, although the urge is there. I’ve got too many crafts already with the holidays, but I’m determined to squeeze it in this year after a fall walk to collect leaves. And as an extension into writing, I’m going to have them add the sentence “My Leaf Man went to _________________.” at the bottom of their art.

Following this book up with the non-fiction book Look What I Did With a Leaf! extends the project even further, for now they can contemplate elephants! Cows! Turtles! Fish!

Then, if you want another book to tie in, why not Red Leaf, Yellow Leaf , also by Lois Ehlert. All three work perfectly together, and your kindergartners will be enthralled and delighted by fall and the leaves around them.

I’ve dragged out all those books, along with my nonfiction and fiction about Indians, since our Indian jackets, necklaces, headbands, and drums are ready to go. Yes, it’s craft season in the classroom, but also time to give them some sense of how various Indian tribes lived and to convey the notion that tribal life–homes, clothing, food–varied due to location. So I contrast the tribes of the Northeast with other Indian peoples and use fiction to support that.

One of the most beautifully illustrated books in my collection is The Rough-Face Girl by Rafe Martin, illustrated by David Shannon, and a retelling of an Algonquin folktale.

An Invisible Being lives near this Algonquin village, and every young maiden wishes to marry him–but in order to do that, the young woman he chooses must have seen him.

Enter the two cruel older sisters and the younger sister who has been the fire tender of the family–and is covered with scars from the burns she has received over the years.

Does it remind you of Cinderella?

You bet. The two older sisters attempt to lie their way into becoming the bride of the Invisible Being, and fail. The youngest, who must make do with her father’s remaining broken bits of shells and too-large moccasins, is mocked as she leaves the village. But because she, of all the people, can see the Invisible Being, the tale ends with her being the chosen bride.

After the reading–in which certain vocabulary words need explaining and the image of the Invisible Being’s face merged with her world needs to be pointed out–I always ask what story this sounds like, and there’s usually at least one child who can connect it to Cinderella.

The illustrations, though, make this book. The youngest daughter, scars and all, is beautiful. The natural phenomena that surround the village and reflect the Invisible Being are also images of beauty.

One of the best illustrated books ever and well worth a place in your child’s or classroom’s library. And then, right after reading this one, pull out The Mud Pony or Raven.