The Gift

Giving a book that can become a friend

by Kristen Pittman

There is a book on my shelf inscribed with the following words:

In 1989, my Aunt Jan gave me a collection of poetry for children, Sing a Song of Popcorn, for my third birthday. My aunt knew the strength of the silly mixed with the serious, and this book was just right.

Throughout my life, my aunt championed my love of words—both reading and writing them. She introduced me to the joy of so many wild and made-up worlds, always teaching me the profound power of story.

Jan gave me many books over the years, but Sing a Song of Popcorn was one of the few that stuck. I loved reading it over and over throughout my childhood. I loved reading it with her the most. When we read together, she engaged with me as a person and not just a child, finding ways to connect what was on the page to my everyday life.

There is something special about books given to us by the people we love most. Even more special are the books given by people who see the magic in stories and teach us to see it too. Those books take root in our hearts. They are no longer just things. The lines around them soften a little, and they morph into something more like friends.

Eventually I grew up, as kids do. High school and then college came and went. During those years, my aunt lived in Uganda. Though Sing a Song of Popcorn was packed away at my parents’ house and thousands of miles separated my aunt and me, I thought of the poetry regularly, recalling the comfort and affection wrapped up in that book. It was, and still is, a tangible piece of Jan’s love for me.

When I got married and relocated to a new city, the book moved with me. When I had my own children, Sing a Song of Popcorn found a home amid the many children’s books on our shelf. There are no words for the joy of watching my daughters giggle at the elephant stuck in a telephone booth just the same way I did. Even more indescribable was the joy of watching my daughters delight in reading it with Jan and seeing it become a friend to them, too.

Next week marks four years without my aunt. She passed away from cancer in late December 2020. In a season when all the world was waiting with great joy, my family was waiting with great sorrow. As I often did over the course of my life, I pulled that poetry off the shelf to provide comfort and companionship.

Two years later, my old friend found me again in the most unexpected of ways. It was my aunt’s birthday and six days before the second anniversary of her death. The grief that year was overwhelming, and I was completely caught off guard by its intensity. Surely the second year shouldn’t have been harder than the first, I reasoned. But it was, and her birthday was cloaked in a particularly heavy sorrow.

I think it was no coincidence that was the day I walked into a local used bookstore—one of Jan’s favorite kind of places—in search of books for my daughter’s class Christmas book exchange. There, tucked among hundreds and hundreds of children’s books, was a gently-loved copy of Sing a Song of Popcorn. In all the years I’ve owned this treasure, I had never once seen it out in the wild until that day.

Thirty-five years ago, my aunt gave me a book that became an unlikely friend. Then, in a moment when I needed it most, God used that friend to graciously reminded me he sees me, he knows me, and he loves me deeply.

We’ve reached the time of year many of us are giving books to people we love. We cannot predict the impact these books will have on the lives of their recipients. But we can give with intention.

Consider including a little note with your book about its meaning to you. Be sure to engage your littlest recipients in the magic of the gift. Revisit the book with them whenever you can, whether by reading it with them or folding it into your conversations.

Who knows. The book you give this year just might become the friend your loved one never knew she needed.

We’ll be taking a break from this newsletter for the next few weeks as we celebrate Christmas with our family and friends. We look forward to coming back in the new year with bookish thoughts and news of what’s happening in the world of Bandersnatch Books.

Meanwhile, we’ve still got some sales going on and you still can get your books by Christmas, so consider finding a gift among the treasures found off the beaten path that are Bandersnatch Books!

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December 3–24: Free shipping on book orders of $50 or more with code SHIP24
December 14: Order by this date to be sure to get your books in time for Christmas!
December 25–31: Delayed fulfillment (we’ll be celebrating Christmas with our families, so won’t be quite as quick about shipping out orders).
Early 2025 - Kickstarter for I’ve Got a Bad Case of Poetry - Presave now!
April 2025 - Release of poetry collection by Kelly Belmonte, Mother of All Words
June 2025 - Release of mystery novel for older readers by Katherine Ladny Mitchell, Not to Be
August 2025 - Release of lower middle-grade novel by Mary Barrows, Joe the Fourth and the King’s Crown
November 2025 - Release of illustrated children’s poetry anthology, I’ve Got a Bad Case of Poetry - Pending successful Kickstarter

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You could get free shipping on a Daughter of Arden trilogy, or several copies of your favorite picture book for all the kids in your life! Visit bandersnatchbooks.com/store and use code SHIP24 for free Media Mail shipping on book orders over $50! We recommend ordering by December 14.

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POEM
I loved my friend.
He went away from me.
There’s nothing more to say.
The poem ends,
Soft as it began —
I loved my friend.

Langston Hughes
(as found in Sing a Song of Popcorn)