Connect with us

Culture

Children’s Picture Books About Wearing Eyeglasses

Published

on

Children’s Picture Books About Wearing Eyeglasses

We’re all influenced by how we see the world. Sometimes that view is clear and sometimes it’s a bit fuzzy. Adjusting our “lens” can help us better understand one another, and ourselves. How appropriate to find three recent picture books that look at eyeglasses from different perspectives.

Anyone who wears glasses and forgets where they put them will appreciate BEAR’S LOST GLASSES (Gecko, 40 pp., $18.99, ages 4 to 6), by the award-winning Belgian author-illustrator Leo Timmers. Its boldly colored art makes it obvious from the first page that Bear’s red glasses are perched on top of his head. Obvious, that is, to everyone but Bear, who thinks he left them with his friend Giraffe.

On his journey to retrieve them he has delightful Mr. Magoo-like encounters. Walking by a leafless tree, he remarks, “Hey, a deer. I’ve never seen one here before.” Looking at a green, low-to-the-ground, horizontally spreading bush, he wonders, “Where did this crocodile come from?” Without his glasses, Bear even mistakes Giraffe, lazing in a long, almost fully reclined deck chair, for a snake. And he remains clueless when his friend hands the glasses to him, exclaiming triumphantly that he knew he’d left them at Giraffe’s house — before dragging Giraffe off to show him the animals he “saw” on his way to meet him.

We of course know there wasn’t a deer or a crocodile, and now that his “sight” has been restored Bear doesn’t see them either: “I don’t get it. There must be something wrong with my glasses.”

Timmers is a master of “Show, don’t tell.” Giraffe’s facial expressions in response to Bear’s bafflement say it all. In the end, Bear returns the glasses to the top of his head and excitedly declares, “Three LIONS!” upon approaching a trio of bright sunflowers. The perfect denouement.

Timmers’s stunning mixed-media images, with clever details and surprises that make multiple readings a treat, are a playful reminder that it’s not just what we see that matters but how we choose to see it.

CHARLIE’S EYEGLASSES (NubeOcho, 40 pp., $14.99, ages 3 to 7), written by Margarita del Mazo and illustrated by Guridi — Spanish creators who collaborated on the witty counting book “The Flock” — is a sweet story that explores the deeper theme of wanting to be seen versus truly seeing. Del Mazo grasps the importance of rhythm for the page turn, and her pacing is spot-on. After an endearingly quirky introduction (“This is Charlie. People call him Charlie because he is very small. One day he’ll grow up, and then people will call him Charles, like his dad”), I couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

At school Charlie is smitten with the wryly named Iris, a girl who doesn’t notice him — even though he beats a drum, wears disguises, walks on stilts. When Iris announces she’s getting glasses, Charlie is thrilled, believing she’ll finally see him. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. But since her glasses are “the talk of the class,” Charlie decides he needs some, too. While his visit to the eye doctor to get a pair of his own is a leap, it serves the plot.

Then comes a lovely twist. A different girl calls Charlie’s name, and he discovers Rose, who had been there the whole time, hidden in Iris’s shadow. “It turns out he really had needed those eyeglasses to see, after all.” What a treat to return to the start of the book and see what we also missed (e.g., a tiny lovebird who has many cameos).

Guridi’s tender and funny artwork adeptly captures the heart of the tale, blending lively, loose line drawings with just the right touch of color and texture.

In GEORGE WASHINGTON’S SPECTACULAR SPECTACLES: The Glasses That Saved America (Calkins Creek, 32 pp., $18.99, ages 7 to 10), Selene Castrovilla recounts a little-known historical moment with humor, compassion and suspense.

For many years, General Washington kept the fact that he wore glasses a secret. He worried his spectacles made him look weak, and made his nose look big. The fact that the man who would be our nation’s first president had such concerns is a great message for children of all ages.

By 1783, America had defeated the British, and Washington’s officers knew the army would soon be disbanded. Tired, battle-scarred and angry that they hadn’t been paid in years, they conspired to storm Congress. In an effort to prevent the planned uprising, of which he’d gotten wind, Washington obtained a letter from a congressman promising the officers they’d be paid when the government’s coffers were replenished, and thanking them for their service. But how could he read it to them without his glasses?

Despite intense embarrassment, Washington rose to the occasion: “Gentlemen, you must pardon me. I have grown gray in your service and now I find myself growing blind,” he began. Before he moved on to the letter, his men were already crying: “Seeing George’s glasses made them realize how much he had sacrificed for America. … They pictured how much they had been through with their general.” And they reaffirmed their loyalty to the country they loved.

Castrovilla’s story reminds us that even the most revered figures have insecurities — and revealing them can be the bravest act of all — while Jenn Harney’s illustrations balance a child-friendly aesthetic with timeless charm.

All three books invite us to embrace curiosity, vulnerability and a broader view of the world — with or without glasses.