The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
by Kate DiCamillo illustrated by Bagram Ibatoulline
Once, in a house on Egypt Street, there lived a china rabbit named Edward Tulane. The rabbit was very pleased with himself, and for good reason: he was owned by a girl named Abilene, who treated him with the utmost care and adored him completely.
And then, one day, he was lost.
And then, one day, we finished the book. It was lovely. Zane was entranced and asked me everyday if we were going to read about Edward Tulane. Harper would exclaim, "One more chapter!" after each one ended. Reading this book has been a joy.
And the literary analysis of the piece? Eye opening indeed. In discussing it over a chocolate cupcake, I asked Harper what Edward had found on his journey. "Love" she said simply. And truely this book speaks both to learning about the beauty of love as well as the heartache of love. Sometimes, George and I tell the kids that we love them so much it hurts. This is what Edward learns.
Then she adds, "It was kind of like that other story. You know, the movie we saw where the two teenagers and the kid travel to that place where there wasn't any love."
What?
Oh! "A Wrinkle in Time?" (which we watched back in December, which scared her a bit and thus we skipped some parts, and which seemed to go right over that little head of hers.)
"Yeah! That one!"
After that comment, I bent down, looked straight in her eyes and said, "Little girl, don't you doubt yourself. You are so bright. You know so many beautiful things. You fascinate me!"
Lest we forget about Zane's literary analysis . . .
"Zane, what did your learn from Edward Tulane?"
"Um, Tru-dog?"
Oh, snap.
Speaking of Zane . . . he attempted to repeat something I said today. Something he heard while up in his crib apparently NOT napping. Something that wasn't all together . . . um, glowing. See, we got the house cleaned today. Looks great. Smells great. And then, I hear this awful sound from the living room. And then the smell hits me. Scout had diarrhea. On the new clean carpet. Just two hours after having my house cleaned! In a phone called to George, I shared that Scout had crapped on the rug.
And then, Zane, shared the news with Harper after school.
"Harper, Scout cracked on the rug."
She didn't understand, so I quickly corrected.
"No, Zane, Scout pooped on the rug."
"Oh, right."
Oh snap.
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