How I Learned to Fall Out of Trees
Vincent X. Kirsch
(Author)
Description
Roger and Adelia are the very best of friends. They've spent many springtimes collecting birds' nests, autumns jumping into piles of colorful leaves, and winters building snowmen. When the time comes for Adelia to move away, the two friends must say good-bye. But Adelia has one parting gift for Roger: She will teach him, once and for all, how to climb a tree. Lyrical and colorful, the narrative flips between Adelia's instructions ("hold on tight," "move up when you're ready") and her packing list (things they loved to play with, things they were supposed to throw away). By the time the moving van pulls up, Roger is ready to start his climb. But now, he's afraid of "letting go." In a sweet reveal, we learn that Adelia has left behind a soft landing, making sure that--for Roger--falling is the easiest part.Product Details
Price
$16.99
$15.80
Publisher
Harry N. Abrams
Publish Date
April 23, 2019
Pages
40
Dimensions
7.7 X 11.2 X 0.5 inches | 0.8 pounds
Language
English
Type
Hardcover
EAN/UPC
9781419734137
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About the Author
Vincent X. Kirsch is an author, illustrator, playwright, and designer. He is the author-illustrator of books for children, including How I Learned to Fall Out of Trees and Natalie & Naughtily. He lives in Beverly Hills.
Reviews
"A primer on both getting up into the leaves and coping with the loss of someone you're attached to. Kirsch elegantly makes the connection with affirmations that work both ways: 'Hang on tight with both hands'; 'take it one branch at a time'; and, inevitably, 'letting go will be the hardest part!' . . . A well-cultivated story that plants a seed about the value of friends and what they leave with us, even when they're gone"--Kirkus Reviews
"This tender story, sweet without being saccharine, is an eloquent metaphor for saying goodbye and allowing memories to cushion the blow."
--The Horn Book
"This tender story, sweet without being saccharine, is an eloquent metaphor for saying goodbye and allowing memories to cushion the blow."
--The Horn Book