79 books like It's a Magical World

Shepard’s roughly-hatched illustrations are a symbiotic match for the scruffy charm and humour of Milne’s stories.

Only a couple of chapters feature snow, but they loom so large in my imagination—Pooh and Piglet following their own footsteps in search of the legendary Heffalump; and building Eeyore’s new house at Pooh Corner to shelter him from the snowstorm (unwittingly using Eeyore’s existing house as their source of wood).

As Eeyore gets buried in the snow, I can feel the cold wind with each economical scratch of Shepherd’s pen nib.

Growing up, I was enchanted by Jill Barklem’s detailed watercolour illustrations of this miniature world of mice. The cosy, fire-lit interiors—crammed with furniture, food and flora—are so intricately drawn as to give you the feeling you could walk through them.

Barklem also makes liberal use of one of my favourite devices for visual exploration: the cutaway. It’s used to excellent effect here as the mice carve out even more real estate under the snow, namely an Ice Hall for their winter ball.

These illustrations instilled in me a love of detailed artwork, and faithful rendering of a three-dimensional environment, that persists to this day in my own style.

One reason I love snow so much is the way it muffles the world, making everything soft and fuzzy around the edges.

The essence of that feeling is distilled perfectly in Lewis’s beautifully-lit pastel and pencil illustrations, squeezing so much colour into every inch—even of “white” snow.

It’s a lovely story about a little boy taking responsibility for his action. I love a children’s book with a final illustration that undercuts the sentimentality of any preceding message, and this does that hilariously.  

This story is a great exploration of FOMO for young children.

Two best friends are split apart when one moves a long way away. Herman the bear feels increasingly left behind and obsolete when he reads Henry the racoon’s correspondence (actual letters pasted into the book) describing new friends in his sunny new home. Herman feels too miserable to write back; when he finally does, deep snow has set in and the post office has closed for the winter.

So he sets off into the swirling blizzard to deliver the letter himself—up steep cliffs and frozen waterfalls, over creaking crevices and the tallest mountains, all gorgeously painted by Percival in a perfect balance of three-dimensionality and looseness. At the end, the pictures do the talking: Herman and Henry are still best friends.

Two Black teenagers in New York are thrown back in time to the Civil War era. Suddenly the similarities and differences of what it means to be Black in America are also thrown into relief, past and present both converging and clashing. Genna is our first-person narrator, and through her, we live fully in two worlds—one in which she struggles to go to college and leave behind the dangers of her Brooklyn neighborhood and one in which she struggles to stay alive in a volatile society which offers little support to the poor and vulnerable of any race.

I love books that show children (and adults) how to get along with others who look and live differently from them.

The relationships in the Pooh stories go well beyond a bear and a boy. The other characters are more than just different animals—each has a unique personality. There are many Pooh picture books to choose from, but I like the classic version.

I was thinking of Winnie-The-Pooh when I wrote my series. Not the specific stories or characters but the tone of the stories and the feelings they evoke. As a child, the Pooh stories fostered curiosity, calmness, and kindness. Read any Pooh story and see if you, too, feel the zen.

Toys! Dolls! Amusement Parks! They aren’t just playthings and play places; they are part of our national character and our consumer culture, as well as our private objects and experiences. Childhood is manufactured—created in our homes, communities, schools, and yes, by play. This book has a lot to say about our history but it is also a fun reminder of the things many of us grew up with or wish we had. It just might have you rooting through your attic or old photo books.

This book was originally published in 1930 and also goes back a long way in my own life as well. I have fond memories of my father reading this story to me when I was young, acting out all the parts of the story, using different voices, and more. Despite being little and unassuming, the Little Blue Engine uses hope and belief to get over the mountain. Without belief in ourselves we often can’t even begin to try, but the Little Blue Engine chose to trust in himself and it paid off - big time. We can all use a little more belief in our own abilities to create massive change in our lives.

This book is about Jane Goodall, famous chimp researcher and United Nations Messenger of Peace. As a child, she shared her backyard “magical world of nature” with her stuffed chimp named Jubilee. The book Tarzan of the Apes expanded her passion into dreams of going to Africa to study animals. “Wow!” She did it, and her stick-to-it observations led to the discovery that chimpanzees make and use tools. As she protects wildlife she also helps people in wild places to get better food, water, and education. Her concerns for all creatures have inspired children around the world to take some action toward a better planet.  

It’s a tender story about the length a friend will go to make sure that their new found friend is taken care of and loved. It’s a book that celebrates love and friendship and it’s one of those books you’ll return to and want to read again and again. It’s a perfect storytime or bedtime book!