Street Level

Many years ago, children’s author Robert Munsch was scheduled to appear in my hometown.

The boss at the time glanced around at the motley crew of lifestyle/entertainment reporters in the department — which included a couple of women and three men near retirement, a confirmed bachelor, a couple of newbies fresh out of journalism school, some former sports reporters reassigned after the last set of buyouts — and me.

“Dale, you’re a mom. You interview this Munsch guy.”

And so, at the appointed day and time, the man whose books were at that time part of the regular bedtime ritual, telephoned.

“Got a question for you first,” he said. “You a mom?”

Affirmative.

“Why do they always make me talk to the parents?” he said, likely to no one in particular, but a sentence that didn’t really leave me thinking he was going to be warm to the interview.

But he was. He was exactly the kind of person I thought he would be, a kind, quick-to-chuckle, witty, smart, approachable and yet humble man who happened to have an incredible gift for writing stories that entertained children, but didn’t drive parents nuts after the 20th consecutive night of reading them.

He talked of his family, his eight siblings, his studies to become a Catholic priest.

And he talked about how, while on a student-teaching placement (he’d given up on the priesthood, spent some time working in day care and had gone back to school), he found himself in charge of circle time.

And that’s where Mortimer was born. It came out of Munsch’s head, engaged the youngsters, then went back into his head, not to come out again as a book for another 12 years.

But Munsch was hooked on the power of storytelling, especially how it would work when it was quiet time for his young charges at the day care.

He’d sit and tell stories and they’d lie down and listen.

Before they knew it, the story was done and they were napping.

The thing of it was, Munsch wasn’t writing these stories down.

He was just telling them.

It was a truly memorable interview, as was his performance the following week when, with just a stool to sit on and absolutely no realization the young girl he’d chosen from the audience for his next story happened to be mine, he had my daughter next to him as he told yet another story he was working on in his head.

That’s how he does it, he said.

He tells the stories to the toughest audiences he faces and, if the kids laugh, he knows it’s a winner.

In this case, he told a story called Something Special, about a mom whose daughter accidentally ended up for sale at the grocery store.

It was funny. Even for us moms.

Probably not for the same reason the kids were laughing.

But that’s Munsch’s gift — he can make us all laugh.

He can also make us all cry.

It’s his gift, one he shares not only in print but as the honourary chair of Family Literacy Day in Canada.

He knows the value of words in children’s lives.

Last year, when I agreed to take part in the first Family Literacy Day here in Kamloops, one of the organizers, Merlene Sibley, asked what book I wanted to read.

I dropped a big hint that The Paperbag Princess would be a super choice. It’s the ultimate women’s lib book, to my mind.

But no, I get I’ll Love You Forever — a book I have read to all five children more times than I remember, virtually every time ending in tears.

It’s that kind of book.

And they don’t give me one that I can hold in my lap, keeping the head down should tears erupt.

No, I get the super-sized-needs-a-second-person-to-hold-it-up book.

But, just as Munsch discovered when he told stories to auditoriums full of children and their parents, magic arrived at the Old Courthouse — where the Family Literacy Day will be held again this year, from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. tomorrow — and this tiny group of youngsters slid up closer and closer to the chair Sibley had positioned for all the volunteer readers to use.

They saw the name — oooh, it’s Robert Munsch —— and they saw the title — oh, it’s the sad one — and they prepared to listen.

They laughed when they wanted to, repeated the aging mother’s refrain each time and some of them even laughed at the end, when they saw those tears in their mom’s eyes.

That’s the beauty of words. It’s the value of words. It’s why literacy is so very important not only to children, but to everyone.

It’s about more than just letters strung together to make words that are strung together to make sentences.

It’s about laughter. It’s about tears.

It’s about life.

Find some time tomorrow to go to the Old Courthouse and share some of those laughs and tears with the wonderful people who are volunteering for Family Literacy Day.

You’ll learn something about life, as well.

dale@kamloopsthisweek.com

Posted by Dale at 9:13 p.m. Comments