Molly Brett was a children's author and illustrator from Surrey, Great Britain and she lived from 1902-1990. She grew up in the English countryside and was surrounded by nature. She published over 60 books for children during her years as an artist. A contemporary of Margaret Tarrant and Beatrix Potter, she depicted enchanted nature scenes for children. She had a gift for making animals realistic and giving them human characteristics and activities.
Her book Robin Finds Christmas was published in 1961 and tells the story of a robin whose fir tree is stolen from the forest while he is away. The rabbit in the woods heard the people who took it said it was "for Christmas." The robin is determined to find out just who this "Christmas person"is.
On his journey, he meets helpers who try and point the way to Christmas. "Maybe it's in the chimney where Father Christmas goes every year" says the sparrow. "You should have looked in the shops" cooed Madam Pigeon. "Perhaps it is in the red post box" cries Jenny Wren, "where all of the Christmas letters go."
Finally, he meets tawny Owl who lives way up in the church tower. Owl points to the village below. "All the letters and the presents are aspects of Christmas" he says, "but you will find the true meaning in the old church below."
Robin makes friends with the resident church mouse, and sure enough, he shares with him the story of the babe in the manger. He leads him to the crèche, where the holy family and shepherds are gathered.
Robin is so taken with the babe that he sings to him.
Robin's fir tree is eventually planted in the church yard and Robin moves back into his beloved tree to stay. In the years to come, he tells the Christmas story to the other birds in the fir tree and together, they sing to the Christ child.
A simple yet meaningful story to read at this time of year, with one tiny bird's search for the meaning of Christmas.
A mama bird with wings of blue
And a golden heart with love so true
Made a cosy nest so warm
To keep her baby safe from harm
And then one day in early spring
She heard her baby sweetly sing!
Welcome dearest little one
From the stars and moon and sun
May you discover the wonder and awe
Of our beautiful world, little jackdaw.
© written and felted by Christine Summerfield/May 9, 2020
The Marry Month of May
It's the marry month of May when flowers are in bloom
A time for courtship and romance for every bride and groom.
Mister Swallow and his bride donned their very best
They married in a hawthorn tree and then they built their nest.
And then there were two pixies dear who lived in Yorkshire dell
The fairy folk who live there still have this tale to tell...
Mushroom Boy, a gentleman, he bowed on bended knee
Asking his beloved one, "will you marry me?"
"Oh yes!" she cried and clapped her hands, her cheeks a rosy hue
And with a sunny smile she said, "I will marry you!"
Another couple fell in love when they were young and free
Married in a chapel, filled with friends and family.
They are still together now, a faithful king and queen
Through all the seasons of their life, like a garden green.
Birds and faeries, people too can marry in the spring
Sharing love and happiness and even wedding rings.
© written and illustrated by Christine Summerfield / May 7, 2020
Coats of Blue
Two little friends in coats of blue
Went walking one rainy day
There was no sun
But they had fun
Singing along the way!
The raindrops fell
Pell and mell
You might say "my oh my!"
But 'neath that umbrella you could tell
That they were warm and dry.
And then they stopped to take a look
At birdies one and two
Under an umbrella big
With feathers bright and blue!
They too were singing in the rain
Yet they were warm and dry
Underneath a mushroom cap
Big, and fat and wide!
So when you walk out with a friend
Who likes to sing with you
You might just see another pair
Wearing coats of blue.
written and illustrated by Christine Summerfield/April 21, 2020
Foxes in the Grass
A family of foxes hiding in the grass
Showed off their rusty tails as I walked past.
A family of foxes hiding on the hill
Not a sound did they make, hiding oh so still.
A tiny yellow bird landed on the biggest one
Pecking, poking here and there and having lots of fun.
As quickly as she landed, she gently flew away
I wondered why the foxes let her poke them in this way.
And then that tiny little bird whispered in my ear
"Go and touch that furry tail, you do not need to fear."
And so I tip toed in the grass to that family
And touched the biggest rusty tail oh so carefully.
It wasn't soft and fluffy, but really kind of dry
"It's not a fox at all, but a big old weed!" I cried.
I rubbed and rubbed that big old tail in my dirty hand
And lots of tiny seeds fell like little grains of sand.
"That, my friend is a curly dock" the happy birdie said
"I like to eat their tiny seeds, so rich and scarlet red."
And as the birdie flew away, I gave a little laugh
How fun it is to think of foxes hiding in the grass!
written by Christine Summerfield / © October 18, 2019
Jewel in the Crown
A field full of weeds
as the summer sun burns...
The old ones recede
and the new take their turns...
Blossoming now on the warm summer stage
Enters the King as we turn the page...
Standing tall with scepter of thorns
His purple flowers await to be born.
Filling his crown with flowers bright
Like amethyst jewels they shine in the light.
With his prickles sharp, no one comes near
Instilling respect and a wee bit of fear!
But the winged ones know of his royal treasures
They dig for his gold with fervor and pleasure!
For his flowers are softer to the touch
The bees and the butterflies like them so much!
And when the jewels fade away from the crown
They change to brittle, dry rusty brown
But the gold finch knows of the treasures inside
Quickly she lands and knows where they hide.
She mines all day in a cloudy white puff
Filling her beak with seeds from the fluff!
After the seeds from the rusty old crown
The last gift remains, the gift of the down.
Silky and soft, the gentlest of all
Will line the nests of the finches so small.
A Wall of Happy Houses
A wall of happy houses is just along the street
Full of every color for the birds who like to sing tweet tweet!
The colors make a rainbow of yellow, blue and green
Orange bright and violet and pinks of shiny sheen!
This neighborhood’s for winged ones, for finches red and blue
Who play and fly and sing all day: “Tra Lee, Tra Lah, Tra Loo!”
They never seem to argue or get into a fight
They’re much too busy singing and playing in the light!
As I sat in my rocking chair with my morning cup of tea
The sun poured through my window bright and what did I then see?
Underneath the pine tree tall was grass all green and lush
It had rained all through the night, a carpet soft and plush.
Puddles lay all through the grass, like a land of little lakes
The sun was shining on them all-not a peep did the water make.
Until I heard a gentle sound of wings all-a-flutter
Two robins hopped along the green, and playfully chased each other.
They flew together up and down, like the bow of a happy fiddle
Until at last they dove right in and jumped inside the middle!
They splished and splashed in the water bright, enjoying their morning bath
They brought a smile to my face, how they made me laugh!
And just as quickly as they came, the birds away they flew
And dried their wings in the morning sun by drops of sparkling dew.
So when you take your morning walk, and your boots are all a muddle
The simplest joy you may find there in a spring time watery puddle!
written by Christine Summerfield
As I looked up in my apple tree
Two little friends I did see
A fairy boy all dressed all in blue
Talking away with someone new.
His wings of green were all a glimmer
And his curly hair in the sun did shimmer
He creeped and crawled on a branch up high
Then stopped and said "my oh my"
"Who are you with wings of brown
Flitting and flying down to the ground?
Your breast of red is soft and furry
You seem to be in such a hurry..."
And this was her reply:
"You may call me Mrs. Robin, I come here in the spring
I build my nest up in this tree, and how I love to sing!
My nest is strong and sturdy so, with branches dry and brown
But inside it is soft and warm, a cozy bed of down
For soon, I'll lay my eggs you see, all blue and speckled and round
I'll sit on them and keep them warm, until you hear the sound
Of babies with their voices high, a-chirping and a-cheeping
Until they settle down again, curled up and a- sleeping.
Then I'll fly away a bit and look for worms so long
And bring them back for feeding time to make my young ones strong."
The fairy boy he listened to the story of the bird
Never a tale so magical he had ever heard.
He wanted to help and be a friend to the Mother Red
And so he offered his services and this is what he said:
"Mrs. Robin I will help while you fly away
Your babies I will gently watch and keep them safe at bay
And should they wake and look around and give a little cry
I'll softly wave my fairy wings and sing a lullaby."
The mother gave a friendly nod and a smile she did lend
They joined their wings together and became the best of friends.
And so the two they shared their days in that apple tree
Tending to the babies young, birdies one, two three.
And when the birdies did grow up and away from the nest they flew
Mrs. Robin stayed best of friends with the fairy boy of Blue.
written by Christine Summerfield/April 2017