How do memories transform creativity and imagination? For artist and poet Kate Greenaway, childhood memories created a swirl of color, shapes, scents, and textures. As if she’d seen them an hour before, the color of a flower or the shape of a bonnet stayed sharp in her mind. She turned the colors and shapes into her unique vision of art—a place where apple trees bloom and invite us to step inside a world where it is forever spring. Critics—including well-intentioned friends—o

The Possibilities of a Handwritten Name My sister was born almost three years ahead of me. When we were children, that age difference meant my sister enjoyed many privileges before I did. And then the day came when my sister was handed her first library card. She took her pile of books, wrapped in her arms, up to the library desk. She could check them out in her own name. It was exciting and important. I had to experience that for myself! Seeing the yearning in my eyes, I sti

My husband and I looked down at our sad miniature rose. "I don't think it's going to make it," Peter said. When Peter gave me the little rose bush, it boasted a wealth of tiny red blossoms. Now, we knew the rose was in trouble. The plant struggled to thrive on the shaded deck of our Berkeley apartment. In an attempt to find more sun, we moved the plant container several times, Nothing helped and it was discouraging to see the leaves dropping off every day. Just when the rose

What can the height of a table tell you? Walking into a special children's library of long ago, a small table could tell you a surprising story. At the World's Columbian Exposition of 1893, the Children's Building housed a garden playground on the roof, a wondrous collection of toys from different lands, and a library filled with treasures. And, in that welcoming library, low tables stood at the best height for children to use. Scattered across the tables were bright, current

For behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. (Song of Solomon 2:11-12 ESV) What makes light so powerful? The light streaming in through a window in late spring makes everything feel more hopeful and promising. At the Chicago World's Fair, a beautiful kind of light was remembered by many who attended the Exposition in 1893. On the Wooded Island, vi

On a bright Chicago morning, Christie Edwards faces a life-altering decision. She is attending an awards ceremony at the 1893 Chicago World's Fair, and she must make a surprising choice. In a room full of people, all looking at her, Christie searches for an answer. Flashing, brilliant colors catch her eye, and she looks up to see patterns of radiant green, deep red and purple like a ripe plum. All the colors form a stunning mural by Impressionist artist Mary Cassatt. One scen

There are so many ways to experience the world—watching the flight of a bird—hearing the wings sing—speaking to a friend about what we've seen and heard...all become part of our memories. But each person participates in the world differently. When a high fever shattered Helen Keller's ability to see and hear, the walls of her world closed in...until she found a new direction. I've been thinking about Helen's story as a character named Gretchen becomes an important part of my

Cinderella's fairy godmother created glass slippers with just a flick of her wand. She would have needed to work overtime, however, to create something even more fanciful: a glass dress. Actually, there were two glass dresses—fashioned for an American actress and a Spanish princess—during the enchanted reign of the White City. In 1893, the White City contained a treasure trove of fascinating exhibits from all over the world. They were housed in magnificent or whimsical buildi

Driving down the highway, I'm always intrigued when a moving house rolls by me. Propped on the back of a trailer-truck, with a sign proclaiming "oversized load," the home being transported looks large and somehow vulnerable at the same time. As I travel along behind the house, watching for a safe opening to pass, I wonder— What special meaning does the house have to the person moving it? Why couldn't they bear to leave it behind? I've never found out the answers to those ques

A Shimmering World of Illusion One of the delights of writing historical mysteries is the ability to explore different times and imagine myself there with my characters. As I'm becoming immersed in writing my new novel, Mystery Fair, I've discovered some fascinating things about a shimmering world of illusion called the White City. The Fair opened on May 1, 1893. It commemorated the 400th anniversary (plus one year) of Christopher Columbus' arrival on the shores of what would