I have a vivid memory from first or second grade. Actually, maybe it was kindergarten. I'm sitting in the library in Lincoln School. The librarian has just finished reading us A Certain Small Shepherd by Rebecca Caudill, illustrated by William Pene du Bois, and I am enthralled. As soon as she is done, I hop up and fetch the book to check it out. Another student is upset with me for getting to it first. I remember not the elation of "winning" but faint guilt followed by overwhelming relief that I didn't miss an opportunity.
That's it.
I don't remember the content--or, rather, I suspect that I do but I'm not sure that I'm not conflating this book with a half-dozen others.
Perhaps this is the problem with adult memory. We could be remembering anything.
However, I do remember the cover. And the cover--not the title--is how I found the book again.
I decided to reread it.
Nor do the author and illustrator make a big deal out of the fact that the family that arrives at the protagonist's home on Christmas Eve is a black family who have already been turned away from several homes. The point is made clear as is the father's disappointment in his neighbors. But the event is presented within context, the experience of an observant boy.
The power of the book is not so much that Jamie regains his voice--I saw that coming (hey, it's a Christmas story!). It is rather how entirely normal he is--he gets frustrated at not being able to communicate. When he is made a shepherd, he is elated. When the pageant cancels due to the snowstorm, he is devastated.
Consequently, the miracle is not only the miracle given the sweet-tempered and virtuous father (his son regains his voice), the miracle is Jamie's decision to adopt his role for guests who have just become parents.
The familiar ordinariness of the story, the humanness, coupled with the greatness of heart is what makes it a true Christmas tale.
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