Giveaway - "Mom, I'm Bored" Jar

I'm relieved to have school finished for the year, but some days keeping my six children profitably occupied all day long is more difficult than homeschooling. 

Last year my friend Linette gave our family a "Mom, I'm Bored" jar. My three youngest girls used this jar nearly every day for weeks. The older ones even delved into the jar at times. 

Last summer I needed all the help I could get to keep our household running smoothly and the "Mom, I'm Bored" jar was a real help. It prompted activities and creative play that I would have never thought up. 

Linette's Mom, I'm Bored" jar has over 300 ideas for children ages 4-12. All the ideas are things that can be done at home. (You won't find "go to the park.") The ideas include craft projects, a games, an outside activity, or a chore. Only a few activities are duplicated.

I placed an empty jar beside the "Mom, I'm Bored" jar to place the used activity papers in. Even though we used the jar hard last summer, I think we have more than half the slips unread, so we have many new activities for this summer before we begin repeating.

Younger children may need help with some of the activities. Older children will be able to complete the activities alone. My nine-year-old teamed up with my younger girls and could do nearly everything on their own.

Most of the activities use supplies that can be found around your house, so are basically free. Linette includes a list of supplies so you can purchase a few of the items that might not be found at your house. (And she blessed me by including a bag full of goodies when she gave me the jar.)

Linette offers her "Mom, I'm Bored" kits which include thirteen colorful pages with over 300 activities, a supply list, and a vinyl decal for your jar. (She'd rather not ship a breakable jar so you can choose your own jar.) All you need to do is cut apart the papers, pop them into your own jar, and turn it over to the children in your life. The cost is $10 with free shipping in the US.

Linette has offered to give away a free kit to one Home Joys reader. 

To enter the giveaway, leave a comment giving a summer activity your children (or grandchildren or nieces and nephews or neighbors...) enjoy. Please include your email address so I can contact you.

To purchase your own kit, email Linette at randyandlinette @ aol.com (no spaces, of course). Write "boredom jar" on the subject line with your  name, address, how many kits you want, and payment preference (check/credit/paypal) and Linette will give the details.

All the photos in this post were taken by Linette. Giveaway is open to US residents for one week. Winner will be chosen by Random.org.

Popcorn - Books, Gardens, and Supports Systems

Random thoughts.

- Occasionally I visit a cancer forum. I usually find them depressing. Glioblastoma stories are not typically encouraging.

But what I find more chilling is how many people have very little support. Some are even abandoned by their friends, family, even their spouse when given a glioblastoma diagnosis.

Last week was my birthday and if I needed a reminder of how much we are supported, I got it. I had five casseroles given to me, besides homemade bread, a bucket of cookies, and two ice cream desserts. Gorgeous flower arrangements were delivered to my door. Friends called, stopped in for a visit, emailed, and sent cards. Another friend offered to babysit so Ed and I could have a date. By the end of the week I felt embarrassed by my flood of riches.

Especially when I think of those who are alone. I wish I could share my support system with those who have none.

And Ed shampooed our carpets for my birthday - which might tell you something about his energy level - or love language. (But I won't mention how many years it has been since they were shampooed.)

- A very rainy May has made sunshine something to celebrate. It also means that my garden has grown a carpet of weeds. The last few days I've attempted to find dirt under the green. Last night it was dry enough for Ed to roto-till so now I can see my garden rows again.

I'm planning to keep my garden simple this year. It is mostly filled with potatoes and green beans, with some onions, corn, and a few other items. Some days I think that I shouldn't have a garden and spend more time with Ed this summer. I don't need weeds adding more stress in my life.

But then I bring in a pan full of fresh broccoli, asparagus, or lettuce and remember why I garden. And hacking through some chickweed and watching a tidy row emerge is therapeutic. I'm almost never disturbed in the garden by the children, probably out of fear that they will be handed a hoe, so maybe a garden is worth having for just the thinking time.

- I've been discouraged about growing tomatoes since we always get tomato blight. I thought maybe this year I'd make a new garden out in our pasture since the blight spores are probably living in our garden soil. But a larger garden doesn't sound like a good idea this year.

Then a friend offered to grow tomatoes for me. (Yes, another example of our amazing supporters.)

But I thought I at least needed one tomato for fresh eating. So I planted it in the front flower bed, hopefully far away from blight spores. My children think I'm crazy. But I think it will be hidden by the flowers and no one will notice I have a tomato in the front yard.

Or maybe I'll just pretend it is hip to grow tomatoes in the front yard.

- Ed was tired for the first week after his seizure, but he is now back to nearly normal activities. At least his normal since his surgery. He seems to be reacting well to his meds and his blood work has been perfect. This week in the doctor's office we chatted with another patient in the waiting room that is on the same clinical trial. She was not able to tolerate the medication, and I was reminded me to be thankful that Ed is doing so well.

- Now that school is over I'm on a cleaning spree. I make no apologies for the areas of my house that have been neglected this past year, but by now they are driving me crazy.

Like gardening, I wonder if I shouldn't spend time cleaning and instead focus on Ed. But Ed appreciates a clean house, so maybe my goal should be to have the cleanest house possible. Yes, I think in circles. So I'm just chipping out housecleaning in tiny bits, keeping my focus on the more important things like relationships, but enjoying the clean. Yesterday we tackled the game closet. I find that I'm much more willing to throw things out now; life seems to short to waste with stuff.

- One of my problems with housecleaning is that I want to do it myself. My children help with general tidying, laundry sorting, dish-washing, vacuuming. But they could be doing more and it takes time to train children to new jobs and I'd prefer doing it myself. I'm forcing myself to train them. A checklist is helping.

With all our interruptions the past couple weeks, house cleaning isn't a fast process but we are celebrating small victories. Ice cream cones after the children's bedrooms are finished? Yes!

- I've been asked to write about how to encourage your children to work. I actually started a post years ago. But every time I think of writing on the topic we have one of those bad days with terrible attitudes. Then I don't think I'm qualified to write about anything.

- I just finished what I think is the best book I read all year. But I chose a terrible time/place to read it.

Not Quite a Miracle by Jon Franklin and Alan Doelp is a fascinating book about brain surgery. It is well-written; Franklin won the Pulitzer for his nonfiction short stories because he is a master of his craft. The book follows four neurosurgeons and places you in the operating room and by the bedsides of five patients.

I was loving the book so threw it into my bag when Ed and I went for his monthly appointments to the clinical center. I knew I have lots of waiting time to enjoy a good book. But, whew, reading about brain surgery in the same building where Ed had surgery a few months ago was brutal. I was nearly shaking and had to get up and walk around to regain composure.

The book reads like a novel with heart-pounding drama. I've said that I don't like medical stories, but I think I'm changing my mind. I don't like poorly written medical stories that are a pity-fest. Not Quite a Miracle is hopeful even if harrowing. It made my appreciate the medical teams that dare to take risks to help their patients.

Not Quite a Miracle (affiliate link) was written in the 1980's which gives a picture of how brain surgery has changed in thirty years. The book is out of print, but I was able to find a used copy on Amazon. I don't recommend the book if you are close to someone with glioblastoma unless you are willing to face the reality of the diagnosis; it doesn't mince words. But if you want an example of great nonfiction writing; it won't disappoint.

- I've been reading lots of good middle grade fiction too. But this ramble has gone long enough. Another day.

Back to cleaning and weeding, loving and training, reading and hoping.

And look for a giveaway or two next week if all goes as planned.

Bookmarks - Picture Books on World War 2

We studies World War 2 this spring which meant searching our library for books to connect with our studies. Reading about this terrible time in history helped put my own problems into perspective. 

The following book list contains picture books on World War 2. It may be difficult to read about the Holocaust and surrounding events, but they contain important lessons to learn. You may wish to preread these books to make sure your child is emotionally mature enough to handle these stories.

This  post contains affiliate links.

The Greatest Skating Race by Louise Borden, illustrated by Niki Daly

Piet dreams of skating the famous Elfstedentocht race, but he finds himself on an even more daring assignment on the frozen canals in the Netherlands during World War 2.

The Journey That Saved Curious George: The True Wartime Escape of Margret and H. A. Rey by Lousie Borden, illustrated by Allan Drummond

Learn the story behind the story of Curious George's escape by bicycle from German-occupied Paris. Collage-type illustrations combine with lilting prose to share the Reys' story.

The Secret Project by Jonah Winter, illustrated by Jeanette Winter

Why are all these scientists converging on a small town in New Mexico with a secret goal? A story from the 1940's that would change our world.

Child of the Warsaw Ghetto by David A. Alder, illustrated by Karen Ritz

Froim is a young Jewish boy in Poland during the Nazi invasion. Through his story and muted art, we learn of the fate of hundreds of Polish children.

A Hero and the Holocaust: The Story of Janusz Korczak and His Children by David A. Adler, illustrated by Bill Farnsworth

Korczak was an author, teacher, and doctor, but to the children at the Jewish orphanage in Warsaw, he was a father. A moving account of courage during dark days of World War 2.

The Unbreakable Code by Sara Hoagland Hunter, illustrated by Julia Miner

A grandfather tells of his work as a Navajo code talker during World War 2. Rich paintings take you from the American mid-west to the Pacific islands and back again.

The Butterfly, written and illustrated by Patricia Polacco

Monique shakes when she see the tall boots in her French village, but when she discovers a young girl in her bedroom, she is sent on a dangerous mission. Polacco turns a family story into heart-touching picture book.

Irena Sendler and the Children of the Warsaw Ghetto by Susan Goldman Rubin, illustrated by Bill Farnsworth

Lush oil paintings tell a true story of compassion of the young woman who risked her life to save children from the Warsaw Ghetto.

Franklin and Winston: A Christmas That Changed the World by Douglas Wood, illustrated by Barry Moser

We all know what happened in December of 1941 at Pearl Harbor, but now learn about the White House Christmas a few weeks later.

A Place Where Sunflowers Grow by Amy Lee-Tai, illustrated by Felicia Hoshin

Mari wonders if anything can grow in the Topaz desert heat. A kind art teacher and a new friend brighten Mari's life in the Japanese American interment camp during World War 2.

The Cats in Krasinski Square by Karen Hesse, illustrated by Wendy Watson

Can a young girl and a few cats help save the lives in the Warsaw Ghetto? A sweet story from a terrible time in Poland.

Memories of Survival by Esther Nisenthal Krinitz and Bernice Stenhardt

Fleeing the Nazis, Esther and her sister disguise themselves and change their names. Years later, Esther embroidered amazing pictures depicting her life in a Jewish Poland home. A stunning book by a textile artist.

Passage to Freedom: The Sugihara Story by Ken Mochizuki, illustrated by Dom Lee

Hundreds of Jewish refugees are gathering at the Japanese consulate in Lithuaia to request visas. When the Japanese government refuses to give the visas, Sugihara and his family make a crucial decision that will save the lives of thousands. An amazing true story from World War 2.

Don't Forget by Patricia Lakin, illustrated by Ted Rand

Sarah wants to bake a secret birthday cake for her mother but she doesn't want to visit the Singer's store. A view of post-World War 2 America and the importance of remembering the past.

Next I'll share a list of chapter books for children on World War 2.

When God Says "No"

When my friend Regina sent me this account this week, I asked if I could share it with you. I can relate to the questions that Regina asks. I know this was a difficult story for Regina to recall, but sometimes the process of writing out our painful questions can help us see the truth. 

When God says “No”

Regina Martin, Peru

“What’s that for, Mommy?” Sonny bumped my elbow, jabbing a dirty finger at the huge white poster spread on the table.

“I’m drawing a picture, see? I’m not drawing much, just some scenery. We will fasten this to the wall by your bed after your surgery next week. Each day you can put some stickers on it from that roll of stickers Emily sent for you.”

“Ooooh. That will be fun!” Sonny exclaimed.

“I will also have a box of ten little packages for you, to open one each day you’ll have to stay in bed.”

“Wow!” My five-year-old was thrilled. “How soon is the surgery?”

Bless his heart, I thought, he’s looking forward to this more than his parents are!

Sonny had been born needing two corrective surgeries. “No hurry,” we were told, “but preferably before he is five.”

The first surgery, done when he was three years old, was a success. We rejoiced. The twenty-some trips to the government Children’s Hospital in the city several hours away and the many hours standing in lines had not been in vain.

The second surgery was a failure, hence the need for a third. 

The past three years we had invested much time and money on his behalf; both rare commodities for self-supporting missionaries. This was our son; we loved him and would gladly spend and be spent for him. Yet at times the realities of another day away from home, finding a baby-sitter, and jumping through hoops in the medical world, were overwhelming. 

I unloaded to the Lord, knowing He would understand and not scold me for complaining. What are you trying to teach us, Lord? Did you send us on the mission field to spent our time and money doing this? Wouldn’t it be much more worthwhile to spend our time at home with the children or witnessing to the lost?

Surgery at government hospitals in Latin America are preceded by a gamut of appointments and tests. Hubby quickly gained knowledge of hospital bureaucracy and became adept at Pulling Strings and Making Connections. But still, inefficiency was the rule. After completing all the tests for the second surgery, doctors nation-wide went on strike for six months. By the time they were working again, the tests had expired. There was nothing to do but repeat the process.

Repeat we did. And now we stood at the threshold of his last surgery, anxious to get this behind us before the birth of our sixth child. This time, we felt hopeful. We had prayed; we had asked for prayer. Surely God would grant healing.

The ten days of bed confinement following surgery were hard for Sonny, but he faced life with his typical optimism. Each day he added stickers to the poster; each morning he opened a package containing a toy. At times he complained of pain or awoke at night, crying. His bandage became soaked. Worried, we called the surgeon.

“Oh, he should be fine. Don’t touch the bandage, just bring him in when the ten days are up. Give him stronger pain meds when he complains.”

We obeyed. Ten days after surgery found us back at the Children’s Hospital, eager for the bandage to be removed.

“Just imagine,” I marveled to Hubby, “we might never, ever set foot inside this place again!”

Our appointment with the surgeon was scheduled for early afternoon. After a full morning of business in the city, I was exhausted. Just this doctor’s visit yet, the most important event of the day, and we could go home.

The surgeon removed the soaked bandage. His forehead furrowed. We didn’t need told; the answer was obvious. Infection had set in. It was ugly.

“I’m sorry,” he stated simply. “It looks like we did something wrong here. We’ll need to repeat the surgery. And since this is the second unsuccessful attempt, next time we’ll keep him hospitalized after surgery.”

I could scarcely speak around the lump in my throat. No! I wanted to scream. This can’t be true! We go through all this, and you just say ‘Oops, we messed up. Try again’?!

We headed home but hadn’t gone far until Sonny was in tremendous pain. I had reached my limit. While Sonny screamed and I sobbed, Hubby made phone calls. To the surgeon, to a trusted medical friend. A stop at a pharmacy, a pill, and prayers eventually calmed his pain.

His mother’s pain was not as easily assuaged. In the days ahead, I struggled. Where was God? Why hadn’t He answered our prayers for a successful surgery? Couldn’t He have worked on our behalf in spite of faulty doctors?

He didn’t answer glibly; he didn’t hand me a pill to pop. Perhaps I will never know why; perhaps I will have a chance to ask Him in person over in glory. If it will even matter anymore.

I do not know why God permits hard things, but I have a guess. 

In the easier times of life, I praise God for what He gives: daily provisions, delightful surprises, amazing answers to prayer. But it is during the hard times that I learn most of who and what He is. And I am not sorry for what I have learned.

Because the most precious lesson has been simply this: He is good. All the time.

Regina lives on a citrus farm nestled in a valley along Peru's coast. Her days are filled with being a help meet to her best friend, mom to her six children, and a friend to those God brings to her door. Writing and editing are stress relievers for spare minutes or sleepless night hours. She can be contacted at siervadeirey @emypeople.net

Take Thou My Hand, O Father

Thank you to each who sent us notes of encouragement and have prayed for us these past few days.

Ed was able to come home from the hospital on Friday. It was so good to be together as a family again. Each day Ed gets a little stronger, but he still tires quickly. It seems strange that seizures could make him more tired than brain surgery. There is no incision and bandages, but those who said "you'll feel like you've been run over by a truck" know what you are talking about.

But in between naps, Ed is enjoying a game with the children, reading to the little ones, and chatting with friends who stop by. This morning we were able to go to church for part of the service before Ed's brain fatigue sent us home.

Recently I was reading But Not Forsaken by Helen Good Brenneman to our children. This book, set in Germany soon after World War 2, showed us the plight of the Russian Mennonite refugees. At the end of the book, the refugees sang the German hymn, "So nimm denn meine Hadende," which has been translated "Take Thou My Hand, O Father."

The author of this hymn, Julie Hausmann, had many trials in her life. Apparently she wrote this poem after traveling to Africa to join her fiance only to find that he had died a short time before of jungle fever.

My problems don't compare with the refugees who today are struggling to find for food and protection for their children in horrific situations. But I think that illness can break that feeling of security that we have on this earth and make us long for the safety of heaven.

These all died in faith...and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth...But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared for them a city. (Hebrews 11:13, 16)

Take Thou My Hand, O Father 
by Julie K. Hausmann
Translated from German by Herman Bruckner

Take Thou my hand, O Father,
And lead Thou me,
Until my journey endeth,
Eternally.
Alone I will not wander
One single day;
Be Thou my true companion
And with me stay.

O cover with Thy mercy
My poor, weak heart!
Let every thought rebellious
From me depart.
Permit Thy child to linger
Here at Thy feet,
And blindly trust Thy goodness
With faith complete.

Tho' naught of Thy great power
May move my soul,
With Thee thru night and darkness
I reach the goal.
Take, then, my hands, O Father,
And lead Thou me
Until my journey endeth
Eternally.
Amen.

You can listen to this hymn below. (Click over to the blog if you are reading by email and can't view it.)

Anniversary Surprises

I had plans for what I'd post today. A year ago, May 10, 2017 is the day I once described as the worse in my life  - the day we learned that Ed had a large brain tumor that was likely an aggressive cancer.

There has been other hard days this past year. The day we got the diagnosis of glioblastoma multiform. The day the MRI showed that Ed's tumor was actively regrowing. But the shock of that first day was unique. The day before I would have said that our family was as healthy as goats. (Are goats healthier than horses? I've heard of horse doctors but never a goat doctor.) But now our life would defined by doctor appointments, scans, and medications.

One year later, for May 10, 2018, I thought I'd write a victory post. We survived a year. A whole year of living with cancer.

I still hate cancer. I hate that many of our friends who have had loved ones face similar diagnosis this year, had to say good-bye. I hate that nearly half of those diagnosed with glioblastoma never make it to one year.

But Ed is recovering well from surgery, his treatment side affects have been manageable, and he is working full time. This past weekend was full of fun as we relished the joy of campfires, conversation, and friends.

So I planned to write about how there have been many hard days this year, but there have been good days as well. God hasn't left us alone. He brought peace in very turbulent times and promises His presence for the future.

But that peace was tested yesterday. This day included calling 911 for the first time in my life, walking the halls of the fourth hospital this year, and flipping through the Gideon Bible in the waiting room asking once again for a reminder of God's presence.

Yesterday, in the early morning hours, Ed had cramps in his leg muscle. It was like a Charlie Horse, only much worse. And it wouldn't let up. We tried ice, heat, sitting in a tub of hot water, walking - but nothing helped. Every few minutes, his leg muscle would tense up. The pain was so bad that he would shake, even his arm tensing.

We called his doctor who ordered some blood work which came back normal. In the afternoon the spasms seemed to abate. We sighed with relief and hoped such a glitch would never occur again. Ed was weary of sitting on the recliner and decided to walk around, but then the spasms came back. He was in the basement with our oldest daughter when he fell.

Ed fell in between two pieces of equipment. He was wedged so tightly that he had a scratch on both sides of his chest. His head missed the concert floor and landed on a rubber hose. But Ed's eyes were rolled back, his mouth was foaming, and he did not respond to me.

All the puzzle pieces fell together. I had never seen a seizure, but I knew this was one. Seizures are very common for those with brain tumors, and we had been so grateful that Ed never had one. But his year of reprieve was over. Likely all those dozens of muscle spasms all day long were also seizures. I felt stupid to not have recognized it earlier.

I called 911, and Ed was soon being loaded into the ambulance where he finally became conscious. Our local hospital started him on anti-seizure medicine which gave immediate relief to the spasms. A CAT scan showed no signs of head or neck injuries. He was moved to a larger hospital and given two more seizure drugs. He was doped all night, barely opening his eyes for blood draws.

Today he is feeling much better, though still sleepy and weak. When he isn't napping, he is talking like his normal self. We hope his MRI will give us information on his seizures. If he continues to do well, he will be able to go home tomorrow.

During the long hours beside Ed's bed last night my mind rolled. Do I still write and share what God has done for us this past year? (I could add a few more things to the list, such as my daughter being with Ed and not injuring himself in the fall.) Or would this be the time that Ed never fully recovers and I have a permanently handicapped husband? If so, could I still testify of the peace that God gives?

I want to. Please continue to pray for us.

Mom on a Mission

Two pajama-clad girls clambered onto the bed, each calling for the spot closest to mom. I pulled them close, and they snuggled down for our nightly ritual. “Let’s talk about when we get big,” Tasha said. 

She is three, going on eighteen. 

“What do you want to do when you get big?” I asked her. 

“No, you say.” She waits, face upturned to hear the verdict.

Read the rest of the article at Mom on a Mission.

My friend Crystal Steinhower and her family have been missionaries in Belize for several years. I was thrilled when Crystal recently started a blog where she writes about learning to accept help,   supporting your missionary friend, and the challenges of mission life. I love her posts on children's books and how she read 50 books in a year plus posts on healthy cooking on a limited budget,

Crystal combines her talented writing with her husband's gorgeous photography of Belize. Check out Mom with a Mission.  

Bookmarks: Picture Biographies of Scientists

One of my favorite trends in children's publishing the last few years is the picture book biography. This genre has exploded, and I think it is fabulous. I've read numerous of these short biographies of people I would have never encountered otherwise. Often they include further information in the back of the book for the older child or parent whose interest in the character has been piqued by the picture book. 

With this list of books you can introduce your children to some of the brilliant minds throughout history. These men (and women) studied stars, calculus, bugs, peas, and much more. They made discoveries that changed our world. 

This post contains Amazon affiliate links. 

The Librarian Who Measured the Earth by Kathryn Lasky

A fascinating story of Eratosthenes and his creative genius which allowed him to figure out the size of the earth with surprising accuracy more than two thousand years ago.

Nicolaus Copernicus: The Earth Is a Planet by Dennis B. Fradin, illustrated by Cynthia Von Buhler

Without even the help of a telescope, Copernicus made discoveries that changed the way people thought of the earth's place in the universe. An excellent children's biography with richly painted illustrations about an important man from the 1400's.

I, Galileo, written and illustrated by Bonnie Christensen

Bright paintings share the story of Galileo's life in the 1500's in a way younger readers can enjoy. Learn about Galileo's many contributions to science and astronomy.

Newton's Rainbow: The Revolutionary Discoveries of a Young Scientist by Kathryn Lasky, illustrated by Kevin Hawkes

A curious boy to a world renowned scientist – this book shares the story of one of the best scientists in history. Discover how a terrible plague impacted the studies of this incredible man. Newton's discoveries of the laws of motion continue to impact the world today.

Come See the Earth Turn: The Story of Leon Foucault by Lori Mortensen, illustrated by Raul Allen

We know that the earth turns, but how can it be proven? Many smart men had failed but one man, who had been a sickly child and poor student, discovered a simple experiment that would amaze the world.

Maria's Comet by Deborah Hopkinson, illusrated by Doborah Lanino

Inspired by the life of Maria Mitchell, this story tells of a young girl who dreams of new discoveries in the sky. Warm paintings show life in a Quaker home in Nantucket, Massachusetts.

Gregor Mendel: The Friar Who Grew Peas by Cheryl Bardoe, illustrated by Jos. A. Smith

How are traits of parents past down to their children? This question sent Mendel on a life-long quest to overcome ignorance and poverty to become the world first geneticist. Bright paintings tell his life story for children.

Small Wonder: Jean-Henri Fabre and His World of Insects by Matthew Clark Smith, illustrated by Giuliano Ferri

Not much was known about insects when Henri was a boy, but he spent a lifetime watching his beloved bugs and writing about their habits. Bright paintings introduce a remarkable man who changed how the world viewed beetles, wasps, and other small wonders.

Odd Boy Out: Young Albert Einstein written and illustrated by Don Brown

An unusual baby, a curious childhood, and a brilliant mind are shared in a quiet picture book about one of the most famous thinker of the 1900's.

The Boy Who Dreamed of Rockets: How Robert H. Goddard Became the Father of the Space Age written and illustrated by Robert Quackenbush

Child-friendly illustrations tell the story of a young man who dared to dream big. He spent his life designing rockets that would change space travel. (I think this is out of print so check your library.)

For a book about Goddard for older students read Rocket: How A Toy Launched the Space Age by Richard Maurer

Solving the Puzzle Under theSea: Marie Tharp Maps the Ocean Floor by Robert Burleigh, illustrated by Raul Colon

Marie spent her childhood traveling with her dad and watching him draw maps. Marie wanted to be a scientist and an explorer but she had to find something that had not been discovered. The ocean floor was the perfect place to study. Gorgeous illustrations share Marie's story and her contribution to science.

Watch for more lists of picture book biographies in future weeks.