Ophelia's Shadow Theatre and the Quiltmaker's Gift

i have beens pending more and more of my time in the workd of chidlren's books. and some of these books are downright beautiful, elegant and sophisticated.



among the favorites right now are The Sea Serpent and me; The Quiltmaker's Gift; and Ophelia's Shadow Theatre.



I have already reviewed The sea Serpent and Me at the Tunkhanock.com/library site (look for Rebecca's Reviews).

Ophelia's Shadow Theatre is by Michael Ende. It's hard to find in this country, as it is originally a German text. Buts omehow or another my local library had a copy of it. Whether they do now or not, I don't know.



Ophelia is the daughter of theatre types. When the book takes place she is an old woman. All of her life Ophelia has had a tiny voice, so while she couldn't be on stage with the other actors and actersses, she was able to sit in the wings and whisper the words to the actors, just in case they forgot. This way she learned all of the great plays by heart.



One day, I don't exactly rememebr how, she comes up on a shadow who has no home. So she offers the shadow the space of her purse to live in. The shadow happily accepts, and before long, more and more shadows who have no homes begin finding their ways into her purse. Shadows are very copact you know, and purses of little old ladies and magnificently large.

So all of these shadows live with her. And at night they do plays on her apartment walls, and Ophelia whispers the lines to the shadows, just in case they forget.



This evolves into the grandest shadow puppetry you could ever imagine. Ophelia and the Shadows become Ophelia's Shadow Theater, and they go arond the country (in a snazzy car witht he words Ophelia's Shadow Theatre emblazoned on the side), doing plays in the park, all the while Ophelia whispered the words.



One day another shadow comes to her. She asks it the usual questions? Don't you have a home.. what's your name, and such.

The shadow responds, My name is Death. Will you still take me in?

Ophelia thinks about it for a moment, and says, I suppose so. It's important to note (for parents and for children) that Ophelia isn't scared, or upset. She is calm, and peaceful.



And so she takes in Death and she passes away.



When she arrives at the gates of heaven, Ophelia is innundated by people waving and cheering her on, kissing and hugging her. Confused, she asks, "Do I know you?"

Then they begin to smile more and more, and the feeling of familiarity grows.

"We are the shadows who had no home, until you."

So together Ophelia and all of the shadows, now angelic beings of light, put on more plays in Heaven. And Ophelia still whispered the lines. Just in case.


The story is beautiful and covers death in a gentle way. Ophelia isn't scared or upset when death comes. She is calm, and peaceful. She makes a decision. There is no mention of the southern realm of fire and brimstone, or even of a deity. Just beauty, light, and being surrounded by those who have loved you, and those you love.

Next is the QuiltMaker's Gift.

This was a book i was given years ago, before we had our little girl. My friend gave it to me because I quilted. The illustrations are very reminiscient of the artist in hallmark stores who does all of the figurines with the quilts. Very rich colors, very intricate, fanciful work. All of the illustrations in this book do the same thing.

The story reads and tells like an old folktale with none of the crunchy rustic quality. Just a lovely story.

The story is this: an old woman who no one can remember her not being arond, even the oldest great great grandfather cannot remember a time when she was not there, lives in a cabin way up high in the misty mountains and makes the most beautiful quilts. Nothing rivals their beauty. But she will not sell them, as much as she's offered or begged. She gives them to the homesless or the poor. Then after she has found someone sleeping out in the cold, and tucked them in udner the quilt, she begins a new quilt the next day.

At the same time, there is a king who is powerful and greedy and loves to receive presents, so much that he has his birthday twice a year. But for all of his lovely things, he is not happy. When he he learns of the quiltmaker, he demands a quilt from her, for it might be the only thig that makes him happy. She refuses. He demands. she refuses. He says fine, and chains her into a bear's den. When the bear wakes up, he'll eat you.

well, the bear does wake up, and he is cranky, but the quiltmaker understands why. "You only have rocks to rest your head on. Go fetch me some pine needles and i'll make you a pillow from my shawl." The bear does, and she makes him a pillow. No one has ever been so kind to the bear, and he is so touched that he breaks her chain, and invites her to stay for breakfast of honey and blueberries.

The king, while powerful and greedy is not good at being mean. so he worried about the quiltmaker all night. when he arrives at the bear's den and comes to their breakfast he is infuritated and orders his royal island makers to make an island just large enough for her to stand on. they do and she is placed on the island in the middle of a vast lake,. "When you fall asleep or the tide comes in, we'll see what happens.."

she is left there, and a small sparrow struggling against the wind takes shelter against her. she makes him a tiny jacket out of her vest. He makes it to the other side, and brings all of his sparrow friends and they fly her away to safety.

the next day, because the king couldn't sleep again for worrying, he finds her in the tree, making tiny jackets for all of the sparrows.

"What must i do to get a quilt?"

"You must give away all of your things and when you yourself are popor, i will have a quilt foryou."

"But i love all my beautiful things."

"But they don't make you happy."

convinced to try, the king scours his palace and finds a tny marble he can give away. while he doesn't smile, the boy who receives it is so excited, it inspires the king to give more and more thigns away until he travels the world, giving all of his precious things away. As he travels and gives, the tiny purple backed sparrows come back and tell the quiltmaker, who then sews in a new piece into the quilt.

Until one day, the last sparrow arrives, and she knows it is time to find the king.

She finds him lying along side the road, reading to a child. his boots worn out, his clothes ragged, but bright smile on his face and cheery laugh at the ready. She tucks him in under his quilt. "I may look poor but my heart is full to bursting with all of the memories and kindness I've given and received. I"m the richest man I know."

a story that tells the truth of altruism, of kindness, of love not being in things but in service to others, the QuiltMakers' Gift is a beautiful story, one worthwile reading to your child.. or to yourself. because we all need to be reminded somedays...

a time of changes

i write this on wednesday night, thankgiving eve.

for all that stays the same, everything changes simulataneously.

we have been undergoing changes here in the little world we live in.

the first one, or the biggest one, happened last week. my grandmother earline williams, all of 86 years old slipped from this world into the next. she had been battling on so many fronts. dementia and alzheimers'; aneurysms around her heart; a pacemaker just put in; congestive heart failure; lung problems so she was now on oxygen 24/7 except for when she forgot what the tanks were there for and turned off them off because they made too much noise; failing kidneys; all just to name a few.

in short, she wore out.

she had just had the pacemaker put in, and the hospital tried to discharge her, but she wasn't able to. she wasn't able to get to the loo, she wasn't able to walk more than a very few steps.

when the nurses found out that my mother would not be coming to pick grandmothe up (after mom had been there all day, and no one had once mentioned release papers to her) a few minutes later grandmother called my mom and begged tearfully, "please come take me home. take me home.. please, just take me home..."

mom didn't go to pick her up.

then every night or time people would visit, grandmother would just beg, take me home, please just take me home... or just go, please just go.... she was unable to handle being left in the hospital.

then the phone call came. 6:30am. the hospital called my mother and said grandmother was having a hard time breathing, and get there quick. the hospital is an hour away. so mom jumped and ran and drove off. about three minutes after mom left, the hospital called again, and spoke to dad. there was a strong chance that grandmother wouldn't be alive by the time mom got there. so dad jumped and ran. called my sister and i first. he called me back a little after 7:30 and gave the update. a blood clot had broken off one of the anuerysms, and was blocking her auroital artery (vein?) by 50%. so she was no longer getting oxygen. ordinarily the doctors would do a pretty aggressive surgery to take care of the problem. but she wasn't strong enough and wouldn't survive the procedure.

so nature took its course. she took a breath, and didn't take another.

while i cried that day, i havent cried since then.

i'm more grateful that she went when she did. she went before she lost her mind completely. she still remembered her family. she had to ask my mother's name a couple times. but she still remembered her great grand babies. she still had humor.

she went before she had to go into a home, which was the next step. she went while she was still able to be surrounded by her family, living semi independently, on the farm, surrounded by her knick knacks, her bird feeders, that sort of thing.

and she went peacefully. it was a gentle passage, with no fear. no anger.

a friend of mine, michael, his mother died of alzheimers, or things related to it. he said when she died, he didn't cry one tear, for she had died long before that. and i completely agree. i cried when grandmother was diagnosed. i was angry at this imposter, this fake grandmother...

she has been dead for a little over a week.

second change: my husband got a job. he got hired! full time, with benefits. in his field. not teaching but in conservation. he starts next week. :) this is a huge answer to prayers. huge blessing. he has been out of work for almost a year now. and we have struggled and struggled. sometimes wondering if we would have enough for groceries.

the commute is crazy. but right now, we are staying where we are because i am still teaching at the university until the end of the semester.

which brings us to third: i have next semester off. i am actively pursuing doula training. i am actively trying to complete that as soon as possible, and at the same time finish a book to mirror like revision. polish it until it shines like the top of the chrysler building so said miss hannigan.

i am beginning to really investigate homeschooling or charter schooling for our daughter.

the more this semester went on, the more i realized, very clearly, this was not where i wanted to be. this was not where my focus needed to be. my focus needed to be on our daughter, on home, on writing, on other things. but not with the university.

at first i was scared to admit that, that i would be changing my career - teaching wise - for something else. but the more i thought about it, the more it feels right. the department knows i'm off next semester. i told my supervisor i needed to "re-evaluate" where the university played into my career, my life and objectives.

on top of that, i have found a yoga studio that's semi local and is donation based. their teaching certification is two thousand less than anywhere else i have seen in the region. while i am nowhere near where i need to be to do my training, it's a goal, it's an outlet. and my cousin will drive us there as i hate driving...

it just seems like the universe is aligning.

so today i have been reading all about childbirth, and birth companions. i'll read some of harry potter 7 tonight. and i'll pick up a few other books. i never read one book at a time.

for a complete list of the books that i have reviewed for the tunkhannock library, check out www.tunk.com/library and look for Rebecca's Reviews.

i'm about two weeks ahead of them, meaning i have two weeks of reviews typically done that aren't published. i only write good reviews, as it's to encourage circulation.

but i may start doing bad reviews here, warnings so to speak.

I may make Twilight (the film.. i can't stomach the writing of the book) my first :)

on other notes:

our daughter is awesome. still is. always is. is a climber.... we need to make her a climbing wall.


i will write a few other reviews very shortly but our little one is still awake - we suspect a cold... so, off to find the vicks and saline spray...

Sherlock Holmes..

For those of you who read this, all maybe three of you? :) you may or may not know that I Have had a iterary crush on Sherlock Holmes, pretty much since I was about thirteen years old. I find myself fascinated by the whole enigma. What can I say, I go for brains over brawn any day. And with a brain like Sherlock Holmes' it's almost porn.

When I was tweleve and reading the stories for the firstt ime, certainly that wasn't even in the vocabulary, I just knew I liked it. I loved the stories. I loved that for once the smart people won. It didn't hurt that the smart guy was also a bad@$$. It was all the things I wanted to be. It was like I had found my own people.

I am nowhere near that smart though if there was a class based on the Science of Deduction, r a way to train my brain to do some of those things, I might just attempt it. Minus the cocaine, morphine and opium. (I don't think he was a heroin addict.)



This time of year, around Halloween, I always start to yearn for certain movies. One of them is Young Sherlock Holmes. Directed by Barry Levinson, written by Chris Columbus, and produced by Speilberg (I think), it's quality from the get go. There's no one that you'll recognize. Absolutely no one. (But Nichaols Sebastien Rowe who plays Holmes has extremely curly hair, and I think that is where I can trace my attraction to guys with curly hair comes from.)




The film takes place at a boarding school. Sherlock is there as a young man, John Watson is a transfer student from a school in the country. They meet and Watson is brought into the world of Sherlock Holmes, especially when there's a series of disappearances and unexplainabale murders. There's human sacrfice, chanting, Egyptian Cults, revenge, hallucinations, lost love, murder... And a whole score with moments that echo back to Carmina Burana by Karl Orf.



This is made in 1986, and was nominated for an Oscar in the category of best visual effects. But it was also 1986. So those amazing effects then may seem common place now. But they enver seem hokey.



An excellent story, with great acting, and a wonderful imaginative beginning to the Holmes and Watson world, Young Sherlock Holmes is perfect for a cold autumn night...



Here's a scene. (funny how it hearkens to the new Robert Downey Jr Sherlock Holmes....)





That's just one scene...Then of course, the next Sherlock Holmes was the Jeremy Brett incarnation from Granada TV. This is the version you probably watched in Middle School when you read Sherlock Holmes. Nothing at all attractive about this guy. Just Jeremy Brett is awesome, and that's all there is, these stand as classics. He still stands as one of the most respected and beloved portrayals of Sherlock Holmes. He passed away, sadly, some years ago, while portraying Holmes...

He's more of the well refined, almost extravagent, theatrical, closest to the literary depiction. While there's nothing to garner attention sensually or attractively, he's still classic.

This is a clip from the Empty House, when Holmes returns. (of course it's a youtube thing, so someone has made a montage with pretty music and slow motion at parts of it.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-MPy13b2IA

Then we have Laurie King's Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes series. I've already blogged about that. So I'll pass on that except that they're fantastic reads.

But my new love is the BBC Sherlock Holmes.

A reimagination, placing Holmes and Watson in the 21st centur. JOhn Watson is a British soldier/dr vetran, wounded in Iraq. Holmes is a scientist who works at a univeristy of some sort? and freelances witht he police. Lestrade is there and calls on him, while ther est of the force views Holmes with disdain and call him Freak. The interpertationi s excellent. That keen deduction is all there. The rapid fire shooting of intellect, adventure and mystery is all over the place. But unlike Jeremy Brett's portrayl which is almost at points a little too saintly, we see this Holmes with all his warts. (when Lestrade decides to harass him and pester him, they call a Drug bust on his flat. Watson, newly moved in is certain it's all unfounded, while Holmes is sweating bullets..)

Now this is viewable on Masterpiece theatre Mystery. The dvds are available for preorder via amazon.com or pbs.org I wouuld include al ink but they are rapidly getting pulled which is fine. So go watch it on Masterpiece theatre.com or Netflix it. TOTALLY WORTH IT!