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I’m working on a longer piece, so I wanted to bring you something a little lighter for this week’s newsletter. I’ve been reading Arnold Lobel’s Owl at Home with my 2-year-old recently, and I find myself thinking about it long after he’s asleep.
Owl at Home is less famous than the Frog and Toad books for which Lobel is best known, but it’s always been a favorite in my house. The book tells five very short stories about Owl, a fearful but ultimately loving bird with an unusual outlook on the world.
Until very recently, my 6-year-old demanded a nightly reading of the second story, “Strange Bumps,” in which Owl becomes so terrified of the sight of his own feet under a blanket that he destroys his bed and ends up sleeping in a chair.
My 2-year-old, by contrast, is partial to “Tear-water Tea,” a frankly bizarre tale in which Owl makes himself cry into a tea kettle by thinking of “sad” subjects, like “pencils that are too short to use.”
At the end of the story, Owl boils his own tears and takes a sip. “It tastes a little bit salty,” he says, “but tear-water tea is always very good.” I like to think of this as Owl’s own little meditation practice, in which he considers all the sorrows of his life, allows them to move through his body, and then reabsorbs them into himself, now transformed into a delicious (I guess) beverage.
This particular dark and threatening February is not the worst time to remind one’s children, or oneself, that we all have a creative power within ourselves, something no one else can take away.
For fans of Frog and Toad, Owl at Home — published in 1975, after the first two Frog and Toad books — can feel like a bit of a left turn. The Frog and Toad stories are all about the deep friendship and love between the two main characters. Lobel never stated outright that they were meant to be a couple, but his daughter has pointed out that the two are “of the same sex, and they love each other,” and has said that the stories were “the beginning of him coming out” as a gay man.
If Owl has a Frog in his life, however, we never see him — in fact, Owl does not interact with another sentient being in the entire book. There’s a school of thought that Owl at Home is about loneliness, but Owl doesn’t seem upset about his lot in life.
Instead, he forms a variety of relationships, both friendly and contentious — with his feet, with the season of winter (he ends up having to kick it out of his house), and, in my favorite story, with the moon.
“Owl and the Moon,” the final section of the book, finds Owl gazing into the sky: “If I am looking at you, moon, then you must be looking back at me. We must be very good friends.”
The friendship hits a few snags — the moon tries to follow Owl home, and Owl is worried it won’t fit through his door — but by the end, all is well. With the moon looking on from outside, Owl gets into bed and peacefully shuts his eyes.
“The moon was shining down through the window,” Lobel writes. “Owl did not feel sad at all.”
To me, this story — indeed, all of Owl at Home — is about the joy of an inner life, something that can flourish even with little input from the outside. All Owl needs is the moon, a kettle, some weird ideas about tea and sadness, and a cozy bed (which he must have rebuilt after “Strange Bumps”), and he can create a whole world.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy people, and I do not advocate retreating from society to live in a fantasy world populated by seasons and celestial objects (or, like, do I?). But this particular dark and threatening February is not the worst time to remind one’s children, or oneself, that we all have a creative power within ourselves, something no one else can take away.
Read it today, and I’ll see you next week.
Some school districts are trying to figure out how to respond to President Donald Trump’s executive order on “Ending Radical Indoctrination in K-12 Schooling,” which officials say appears to conflict with existing laws.
Trump supporters are increasingly claiming that children’s learning differences are exaggerated or not real, and the claim could have serious consequences for kids with disabilities.
Kevin Stitt, the Republican governor of Oklahoma, says he will not approve a proposed plan to collect kids’ immigration status when they register for school.
In addition to Owl at Home, my little kid and I have been reading Before, Now, a beautifully illustrated story by Daniel Salmieri about growing up and connecting to both the future and the past.
Last week I wrote about the rise of universal preschool policies around the country. This week, in lieu of reader emails, I’ll leave you with this recent poll by the First Five Years Fund illustrating the bipartisan nature of the issue: 91 percent of Republicans (along with 97 percent of Democrats) believe the lack of affordable child care is a problem, and 55 percent of Republican voters say increasing access to quality child care is as important for families as border security.
As always, if you have a question, a recommendation, or a topic you’d like me to cover in the future, get in touch at [email protected].
