Llama, Llama, Red Pajama: Author Anna Dewdney’s Last Wish

Anna Dewdney wrote “Llama, Llama, Red Pajama” and a host of other fantastic children’s books. She died a few days ago. You can read about her life and work in this  New York Times article. Although she was clearly an exceptional, gifted, and beloved author, her final wish captivated my imagination and inspired this song. I am deeply moved by the simplicity and generosity of this last request, and I know that artists who work in the same circles would echo the sentiment; creating and sharing art of all kinds with kids is the best legacy we can leave.

She wrote an op-ed article for the Wall Street Journal in 2013. She urged adults to “sit down, put a child on your lap, and read a story. Have fun. Read in character and use funny voices … laugh and cry. Be human, loving, and strong, and that will allow the children in your care to be human, loving, and strong. Perhaps, the next time those children feel like hitting or pinching someone, they’ll hold off and ask for a hug from you instead.”

One writer’s note. I’ve gone back and forth on whether I wanted to say “Read a book to a child” or “with a child.”There’s a reason to use each, and Anna’s own words include both. Although I think it is a shared experience to read with children, there is something about adults taking on the job and reading to that seemed slightly more in keeping with what she said and meant. Plus, “to” sings a little better than “with.” But I might be wrong and I might change my mind later.

A later addition. In response to this post and song, fellow CMN member Lisa Heintz sent me this story (below the song.) I loved reading this and thought others might appreciate it, too.

Go and Read a Book

For Anna Dewdney

 

When I’m gone, don’t cry for me

Underneath the willow tree.

Just do something that will be worthwhile.

Go and read a book to a child.

 

I don’t need a service long

Filled with sermons and with song

You can keep my memory strong, and smile

Go and read a book to a child.

 

Don’t forget to laugh

And use funny voices.

Don’t forget to cry.

And hold each other close…

 

As words move across the page

Like dancers waltzing on a stage

The spirit found at any age runs wild

Go and read a book to a child.

 

On a lap or in a chair

With the stories that you share

You can feel me sitting there a while.

Go and read a book to a child

 

© Stuart Stotts 2016

 

Dear Stuart I love the gentle, playful mood and simple message of your tribute to  Anna Dewdney. I, too, was struck by her “last wish”–what a powerful message and lasting gift to give ourselves as well as the children with/to whom we read! If taken literally, that is quite a legacy she leaves. I took her reminder to heart and actually called my college age son. I toggled between choosing a childhood favorite of his or something more in keeping with his age and finally settled on a short inspirational book. I called him up, asked if he had five minutes (atypically, he said “yes”!), explained a bit about Anna’s wish (her books came out after he had passed that stage so he was unfamiliar with her work), and began to read the heartfelt words in the book. He listened without interruption or any of the anticipated grunts of “Geez, mom.” For that five minutes he was back in my lap, my arms enveloping him, the scent of his downy head wafting, as I read aloud with characters’ voices and great inflection. For that five minutes he recalled those special times of his youth (which lasted well into his teens!) when we shared surprise, horror, grief, joy, laughter, life lessons, and anticipation through the various stories we read together. There was a page in the book that urged him to “never forget to sing.” After I’d read the final page aloud there was a pause between us. Then he said, “One thing’s for sure: I never forget to sing. And I have you to thank for that, mom.” You could have knocked me over with a feather! This is not a kid who emotes much, nor who remembers to thank his parents (though he is typically quite appreciative of others– less quick to be demonstrative or vocal with his parental units). I was beyond touched by the experience, and I believe he was, too. I promised him I would not call like that regularly, but thanked him for the time. He said, “It was good to hear you read to me again, mom. Feel free to do it again sometime.”  Indeed, it was good to have shared that experience with him when the time between us seems so fleeting these days. I have Anna’s wish to thank for that inspiration. You are never too old to love the sense of being read to! Try it yourself–you might be pleasantly surprised! :) Lisa Heintz