Punkybean doesn’t like spiders. I don’t blame her; neither do I. But she loves stories. Me too. She asked me to read a picture book to her when I was over for lunch one Sunday afternoon, so we cosied up on the couch and read Sophie’s Masterpiece by Eileen Spinelli.
Sophie is not an ordinary house spider; she is an artist, albeit a misunderstood one. No one living in Beekman’s Boardinghouse stops long enough to see the wonders she weaves; they are too biased against spiders to notice.
When we finished the book, Punkybean and I decided that not all spiders are scary. If we ever meet one who wears socks as charming as the eight Sophie made for herself, and can spin a coverlet from strands of moonlight and starlight, snippets of pine, wisps of night, old lullabies and playful snowflakes, then she must be worth knowing.
Just wait until my little granddaughter is old enough to read Charlotte’s Web.