I received this book from my grandparents when I was a girl, and it is now my privilege to read it to my own daughters.
Each beautiful, detailed spread tells twice as much of the story as the text itself. When a boy drops his mitten in the snow, curious woodland creatures find haven in its snow-white wool. Unfortunately, the mitten can only hold so much activity…
Sometime last year, my mom knit a pair of white wool mittens for my daughter, who at the time was going through a period of calling her “Baba” (read the book).
The presentation of said mittens was meant to be a momentous occasion. My dad, per Mom’s request, sat down to read the book before unveiling her special gift.
Unfortunately, perfect toddler responses cannot be manufactured, and my daughter shied away from them for several hours. Eventually, however, she did grow to love them, as long as we didn’t make her use the thumbs 🙂 *Sigh* What can you do?