Once upon a time I was a little girl growing up in a six story building. Johnny the Ice Cream Man would pull his shiny white truck into the bus stop and resound the musical magic of his simple bell. I’d make a mad dash off the stoop and scream like crazy for my Mom. She would wrap a quarter in a napkin ball, and toss it out the fifth floor window. For twenty five cents I could buy a delicious chocolate éclair bar and even get change.
Ahh yes, there was nothing better than cooling off on the fire escape with Johnny's ice cream and a stack of books. I loved reading; especially picture books. The stories sparked my imagination, and transported me to faraway places without ever having to leave home. They made me laugh, and taught me lessons I still remember. YEP! Picture books rock as far as I’m concerned. And they’re not just for kids.
Indeed, I have to be one of the luckiest “kids” in the whole wide world to have fallen in love with picture books, to have worked in early childhood education and to have had the dream of getting published come true.
I am grateful for my very wonderful family, to all the children who have inspired me, and to my grandchildren Julian and Grant; most especially. Because nothing is more exhilarating than to breathe their air, surround myself with their honest silliness and share their joy and curiosity in everything they see.