Available:*
Library | Call Number | Status |
|---|---|---|
Searching... Hardwood Creek Library (Forest Lake) | PICTURE BOOK GON | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Lake Elmo Library | PICTURE BOOK GON | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Oakdale Library | PICTURE BOOK GON | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Park Grove Library (Cottage Grove) | PICTURE BOOK GON | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | PICTURE BOOK GON | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | PICTURE BOOK GON | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Stillwater Public Library | PICTURE BOOK GON-HOLIDAY | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Wildwood Library (Mahtomedi) | PICTURE BOOK GON | Searching... Unknown |
Bound With These Titles
On Order
Summary
Summary
Ming wishes for three things at Christmas. First, to sing in the school Christmas choir. Second, to have a Christmas tree like the one in the department store window. And third, to feel she belongs somewhere.
As a daughter of immigrants in 1930s California, Ming is often treated differently than other children at school. She's pointedly not invited to sing in the Christmas choir. At home, when Ming lobbies her parents for a Christmas tree, her mother scolds her for trying to be American. Ming doesn't seem to fit in anywhere: she's not quite American enough at school, not quite Chinese enough at home.
Seeing his daughter's unhappiness, Pop takes her into the mountains to visit a wise old friend. Always happy for an adventure with her kind father, Ming hopes to persuade Pop to bring home a mountain pine to be their Christmas tree. But he has something else in mind, something that will help Ming draw strength from nature, from their Chinese heritage, and from deep and enduring family ties.
Inspired by family stories.
Author Notes
Susan L. Gong is a former teacher of Mandarin Chinese. She holds a BA in English literature and an MA in creative writing. She and her family have lived in Asia, Europe, and North America.
Masahiro Tateishi is a professional artist who specializes in digital and traditional painting and illustration. He also does calligraphy, graphic design, and mural painting. He was born and raised in Sasebo, Japan, next to a beautiful mountain and waterway. He lives in Fukuoka, Japan. His website is: www.masaandpapa.com .
Reviews (3)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Inspired by family stories, Gong looks at Christmas through the eyes of Ming, the oldest child of immigrants in 1930s Northern California. Unwelcome in her school's Christmas choir, presumably because she's Chinese, Ming requests a Christmas tree at home, only to face Mama's disapproval because it's "not Chinese." Feeling unmoored, Ming ponders her place in the world. But a trip with her compassionate father into the snowy mountains--and a conversation with her grandfather's old friends--soon transforms Ming's perspective, as she learns about the significance of pine trees in her family's culture and encounters a generations-old altar left by Chinese miners, a powerful marker of immigrants' resilience in America. Gong's dialogue-heavy prose is lyrical and deeply sympathetic (about the mountain: "Here, he said, we are not foreigners. Here we are men, a small part of nature's greatness"). Intricate, warmly washed interiors and expansive landscapes by Tateishi enchant, conveying viewpoints from a variety of angles that effectively highlight Ming's varying emotions. A historical holiday story that poignantly explores identity and belonging from a less-seen perspective. Ages 5--6. (Sept.)
Kirkus Review
Ming wants a Christmas tree, but her mother refuses, telling her, "Christmas trees are not Chinese." Accompanied by golden- and sepia-toned depictions of early-20th-century life, Gong's text gives readers a glimpse into the lives of families who arrived in the United States during the gold rush. Little Ming feels like an outsider, ostracized at school for being Chinese yet wanting to take part in American traditions. Why does Mama so vehemently refuse to participate? Then Pop takes her to visit some old friends of his father's, and she listens to them tell stories about panning for gold, traveling the West, and surviving the San Francisco earthquake, always recovering from setbacks with resilience and strength. Afterward, Ming and Pop visit a sequoia grove where many immigrants before them escaped their troubles and connected with nature. Pop also has a compromise for Ming and her mother, a new Christmas tradition that does not forsake Mama's Chinese roots. Most illustrations depict beautiful landscapes and settings illustrated with intricate details and glowing warmth, but human figures are inconsistent, the faces at times either too bland or a bit frightening. And while the plot is simple and Mama's motivations are unclear, it is Gong's depiction of the long arc of a bittersweet history in the context of the strength of human character that readers will remember. A thoughtful take on Chinese American history that goes beyond the usual fare. (Picture book. 4-8) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Booklist Review
Ming is an outsider wherever she goes. At school, she isn't allowed to sing in the Christmas choir because she's Chinese. At home, like other American children, she wants to put up a Christmas tree, but her fiercely Chinese mom angrily rejects the idea. Luckily, Dad is more understanding, and he takes Ming outside the city to visit some friends of her grandfather. The old men share stories of the past, and Ming learns more about her Chinese heritage. Later, in a grove of sequoias, Ming and her father pray at an altar built by Chinese miners and talk about her struggles. They ultimately find a tree that will appease both Ming and her mom: the Chinese pine, a symbol of long life. Tateishi's illustrations, oscillating between snowy winter and cozy indoor scenes, have lovely warmth, imparting a mythical quality to the tale. Ming's story shows that the search for one's place in the world begins young, and that, while there's pain in navigating two conflicting cultures, there's a way to heal.
