Showing posts with label Lilly's purple plastic purse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lilly's purple plastic purse. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

The Mouse that Inspired: Lilly’s Purple Plastic Purse


Back in March, I was asked to participate in a blog hop, sharing a book that had meaning to me as a parent. An abbreviated version of my response appears on the Books Make a Difference blog, but the original is below. Former students are likely to recognize this wonderful book, as I used it often in second grade classrooms




When I was a little girl, my father used to recite The Night Before Christmas to my sister and me every Christmas Eve. He told the story from memory, a tradition he has continued with his grandchildren, though geographical separation has necessitated a shift to long-distance storytelling. Last Christmas, circumstances conspired against our phone call. It was the first time in many decades that I didn’t hear my father tell the story (still from memory) and I missed it.

Certain stories and books have a way of weaving themselves into the fabric of our lives. When my daughter was small, Kevin Henkes’ masterpiece, Lilly’s Purple Plastic Purse, was one of those books.


Okay, I can hear you. Masterpiece? A book about a purple plastic purse? And, if you’re familiar with the story, you may be recalling the rodent protagonist as well, wondering how rodents and plastic purses can possibly be the ingredients of a masterpiece.

But they are. In addition to charming characters who transcend mousehood to deal with anger, disappointment and frustration, Henkes provides illustrations that appeal to not only the child listening to the story, but also to the adult who is reading it. 

But parenthood is not all cuddling and storytelling. Some days are hard on both sides of the family equation. At the end of one particularly challenging day, when I kissed my daughter good-night, a line from Lilly came to mind. I reminded my own child, as Mr. Slinger had reminded Lilly, that “Today was a difficult day. Tomorrow will be better.” We both giggled, and a tradition was born. 

My daughter is 16 now, and some days still require that reminder at bedtime, just as I still require my dad’s story at...well, more than 16. 

As parents, we hope to weave messages of inspiration into our children’s lives. But some days leave us devoid of inspiration. 


And on those days, I’m grateful for the masterpiece that is a beautifully rendered picture book.