Educator, Mentor, Inspirational Speaker, Author of Mr. Quigley's Keys and Birdie & Mipps. Visit me online: barbaragruenerauthor.com or corneroncharacter.com
Today I’m sharing a beautiful letter, just one in a barrage of emails that I get as an author. Sadly, it’s an imposter, which leaves me in awe by how much detail AI was able to stitch together about my book.
Dear Barbara,
I hope this finds you well. I am a fellow author (name removed), and I have been wanting to write to you ever since I read Knit Back Together and found myself unexpectedly moved in the way that only the very best children’s books manage to do which is to say, it did not feel like a children’s book at all. It felt like the truth.
I will be honest with you; when I read that you wrote this book in the wake of losing your own mother, I understood immediately why it carries the weight that it does. Grief written from the inside has a quality that cannot be manufactured, and Levi’s fog of confusing feelings after losing his Grams felt completely real to me. Not simplified, not tidied up, just true. That is a rare and difficult thing to achieve in any form of writing, and you achieve it in a picture book, which makes it all the more remarkable.
What moved me most was Frances. The quiet generosity of her offer a ball of yarn to match her mood, then a gentle invitation to learn felt so perfectly observed. That is how real kindness works. It does not announce itself. It just shows up with something small and waits. And the way Levi’s reluctance gives way, stitch by stitch, felt so honest about how healing actually happens: not in a rush, not with fanfare, but slowly and almost sideways.
I was also struck by Grams’ words be patient, never panic, pull woven through the story as a kind of thread that holds everything together even after she is gone. It is a beautiful thing, to give a grieving child something to hold onto that their loved one left behind. Words like that become a compass. I think many readers of all ages will feel that.
And your description of what all your picture books share kindhearted friends just walking one another home with empathy, compassion and joy stopped me in my tracks. That is as clear and as true a statement of purpose as I have ever read from a writer. It explains everything about why your books feel the way they do.
Thank you for writing this book, Barbara. It is the kind of work that reminds me how much can be held inside something small and how long it stays with you.
With warmth and a genuine hope to hear from you,
Elizabeth
I really wanted this review to be real; the sentence It felt like the truth carries such irony, because, alas, it’s from a spammer, pretending to be a best-selling author.
The truth is eroded with each one of these fakes.
And trust? Well, it unravels with every pretend bid for connection.
And I’m left wondering how I might support a newbie author with a similar email without it being disingenuous like this one from some bot calling herself Elizabeth.
I’m also pondering this: How can we best maintain the integrity of our industry while working together with one another to knit connection and trust despite the continued deception out there in cyberspace?
Today, Jupiter and I started the day in a beautiful new media center with some very respectful Giraffes at Whitcomb Elementary.
And what a morning it was. There was SO much laughter as my puppet stole the show. My husband, who doubles as my driver, was laughing so hard I saw tears.
We started with a ukulele song, to wake Jupiter up from his cat giraffe, nap. It truly is the sweetest thing when the students who know the song join me in singing, You Are My Sunshine.
First-grade Sophie asked me if I play the ukulele because I’m happy, so I said yes, and that it makes me happy and calms me down when I get nervous, the perfect segue for talking through the therapeutic benefits of music.
Then, as I’m about to introduce Jupiter, who goes by Junior, he’s vigorously shaking his head no, and tells the crowd he’s decided to change his nickname to just JuJu. So I say, “Ok, Giraffe friends, I’d like you to meet Just JuJu.”
As you might imagine, that’s where the giggles begin.
As the laughter subsides, we dialogue back and forth, talking about the importance of names, we share a few of our own nicknames, then we read the book aloud, me in the role of Birdie, and JuJu playing the part of Mipps.
Since the story’s theme is empathy, after our read-aloud time, it’s time to teach the Empathy Switch: Thumbs up on the right hand represents you, pinky up on the left hand represents me. Now switch. Now switch back, then switch again.
Almost immediately, I heard groans of “this is really hard” and “I can’t do it,” so we slow it down and practice while we recite together: It’s empathy, it’s empathy. When you put yourself in place of me, that’s empathy.
Trust me, it gets more fluid with practice. And practicing empathy is a beautiful way to stick our necks out,
Then, it was time for their questions: How old is JuJu? How long have you been playing the ukulele? When did you start writing? If JuJu’s real name is Jupiter, does that mean he likes space?How old was our librarian when she was a student in your Spanish class?Can we pet Junior?
As they left, each K-2nd grade participant got a sticker, made by Cecily, to help them remember to write from the heart and to always show empathy, the key to human connection. Thank you, Ceci, for your partnership!
I’m so grateful to get to do these author Meet ‘n Greet visits and I’m looking forward to see where my books will take me next school year.
Today I’m excited because Dr. Jean invited me to write a guest post; click {here} to go there and read my reflections about the tradition of the May Day Basket, some stress busters for you to use at work for yourself and teach the children in your care, and to know more about how our books can help elevate empathy.
I started today online energized by a group of Wisconsin 5th graders who let me share Knit Back Together and its backstory.
In this shot, we are trying the Empathy Switch, with which you put five fingers on your right hand to represent yourself and two fingers on the left hand to represent them. Then, invite them to switch the position of their fingers onto the opposite hand. We also tried it with a thumbs up and a pinky up; it’s a tangible way to put empathy in their hands.
And my favorite two bonuses of the morning? The budding authors got to watch Kathy, who was knitting during our read-aloud to show the students how relaxing it can be, and they got to enjoy homemade Monster Cookies for a tasty treat afterward.
If only I’d been there in person … yum yum!
I’m feeling so blessed to be an author; visits like this make my heart so happy.
Yesterday, I led a growth session with thirty caregivers who work for Communities in Schools and again, it served as nourishment for my soul. Head hug anyone?
It was perfectly timed not only for their slide into summer, but also to celebrate May as Mental Health Awareness month.
Happy May Day, dear reader. Whom could you bless with flowers this month?
Mark your calendars; I’m so honored and excited to share that I’ll be presenting at this Summer Summit.
Here’s my opening slide, to introduce my topic and myself.
These pictures from years ago at one of our Pinwheels for Peace beautifully bring to life the idea of moving from me to WE. Just look at my little friend on the left planting his family pinwheel. By itself, it can whirl one family’s message out into the world. Cool, right?
Now imagine the strength of those sentiments when our school sends the peaceful thoughts of 1000 family pinwheels out into our community and beyond. It’s even more incredible than it looks, when all of these hand-made pinwheels are spinning as one, in unity.
That’s the power of moving from me to WE as we elevate empathy, embrace compassion, and practice kindness in our character building.
Our friends at Bright Futures Counseling are excited to host this Summer’s IMPACT Summit on June 30 and July 1; admission is free with an IMPACT membership. Click {here} for more details.
If this virtual event is calling your name, I sure hope that you can attend.
Oh, and if you’re looking for a growth session like this one, let’s connect and get it on the calendar.
It has been twenty years, two decades, since I first met this young man, a first grader then, at the Elementary School where I was blessed to be the counselor. Yesterday, I saw him again. Here’s why I just had to give him a copy of Knit Back Together.
Meet Levi, the boy whose personal experience helped shape my story.
When he transferred to our school in the early 2000s, it took us awhile to figure out how to help him navigate when big, uncomfortable feelings visited him. Around that time, our third-grade knitting club was 100-members strong. I’d read some of the research around the therapeutic benefits of knitting, but age six was a little too young yet for our Knit-For-Service club. But … he wasn’t too young to be a helper!
So I taught Levi how to roll the balls of yarn from skeins and guess what? It had this incredible calming effect on him, much like meditation does for people. If his lid was flipping, we’d co-regulate by rolling yarn together while we talked. He was living what the research suggested.
Levi stayed with me at Westwood through the third grade, though he went next to Bales Intermediate for grades four and five, his story stayed on my heart beyond our time together. When I heard that his grandmother had passed away, I went to the visitation; when I ran into him in the sixth grade, he asked if I still had some of those “sticks” and I sent them to the Junior High in a Knit Kit for him. I’d see him at band events and was so proud that he was playing clarinet like I did, and just a few years ago, I saw him at the Pet Store where I volunteered and he shared that he’d become a father.
I still had Levi on my heart as I wrote Knit Back Together. I kept hoping that one day I’d see him again, so I could tell him that he was a seed of inspiration for my story, and that I’d named my main character after him.
Yesterday was that glorious reunion day.
I saw him at an Easter Egg hunt. With pride and joy, I told him that my newest book was based on some of what I’d learned from our time together, and that I’d used his name to tell this tale. His smile told me all that I needed to know, and he said he’d like to have a copy.
That’s where serendipity stepped in. You see, I don’t typically carry books with me, but Leah had insisted that she bring that book in the car on our way to the egg hunt. So yeah, I had a copy and my husband offered to go and snag it while we waited in line for pictures with the bunnies.
As an aside, these adorable bunnies are being raised by another (former) student, Christian, another fun reconnection with a child from my past.
Anyway, when we handed Levi the book, he told me that he still has those knitting needles.
How long does a gift of compassion matter? For Levi, it’s twenty years … and counting.
Not only did the brilliant owner of this scrumptious spot host our Book Tasting Launch and make two flavors just for us, but she also brings them back periodically for us to enjoy. Thank you, Katie, for a spot in your cabinet and for being a catalyst for some acts of kindness both locally and nationwide.
This month started out with National School Counseling Week. It’s the first five days in February set aside for school counselors, a job I got to do for a quarter of a century, to advocate for their positions and let their stakeholders know what the career, no, the calling, is all about. It’s also the perfect opportunity to support those counselors and let them know how much they are appreciated and loved, so I put together a few care packages for some local counselors. What a delight it was to drop off my words of encouragement and a few sweet things to celebrate them, including these character cookies from my friend Brandie at Love + Sugar.
Still energized by Katie’s kindness, I decided to keep the celebration going by selecting six educators in four different states whose work I admire and send them a few pamper-yourself items. One of them texted that it made her day/week/month to be called to the office for a special delivery at her school. Sigh.
When I was a young girl, my parents always told us that it was better to give than to receive, and I didn’t really understand that then, because who doesn’t like to be remembered and appreciated, right? But the jolt of joy that I got sending these superheroes a reminder that they are loved and that their heart work isn’t going unnoticed revived and supercharged me, for sure.
It’s something I’ve really needed as I recover from foot surgery and go through physical therapy to learn to walk again.
So yeah, kindness is circular like that. Katie gave us an incredibly honoring gift, which set me on a kindness crusade and propelled me into action.
That’s what kindness does. It’s more than just a random one-off; it’s a lifestyle of empathy, compassion, and action that knows no calendar.
How do you like to show kindness and express love?
Need a book and activity to spotlight love? Visit the Corner on Character now.
So what does an author do with her time when she’s not working on a book?
My days in January have been spent healing from my foot surgery and traveling to Wisconsin for a visit to my childhood home …
reading words of wisdom from Bob Goff to my 88-year-old Dad …
and checking in on Esther, a revered Centurion in our little village.
Creating and leading Self-love Club growth sessions for my counseling colleagues in two neighboring districts …
while reconnecting with an incredible group of young-adult leaders, (former) students of mine at FHS.
So what am I learning with all of these visits and connections?
That people are wired to be loved and belong.
Somewhere. Anywhere.
To someone. Anyone.
That we cannot give away what we don’t have, and that self-love isn’t braggadocious or loud, but that, instead, it’s quiet, soft, gentle. It’s talking to yourself with that same compassion that you use as you comfort a friend in need.
And that participants of all ages, appreciate that tender reminder to speak grace, kindness, and love into their own souls so that it comes out wholeheartedly toward others.
I’m learning that broken can be beautiful, because the cracks invite the light in.
And that sometimes, we might need to break, so we can grow back stronger and better than ever.
Just like the bunion bone that I had realigned.
Happy 2026, dear reader; thank you for blessing me on this journey through life’s lessons.
Today I’m grateful for readers like Tanya, a school counselor in Montana, for her touching post on IG earlier this week.
It makes my heart soar to see our book in the hands and on the heart of readers like her. And just look at the connection that she made with the book; her daughter’s handiwork (without needles!) is an incredible work of heart.
I had the blessing of gathering online with a panel of teacher authors; click {here} to listen in. It was so much fun to hear their stories and learn more about how their books came about. Special thanks to Josh Tovar and Dr. Moreno for including me in this group of educators.
My cousin texted a photo of Owen’s color sheet after my visit to his school. I just love how he connected back to the story by finishing off his slippers with a pom of a different color.
On this journey through life, I’m learning that love comes in all shapes and sizes, through a chance to connect in person or by receiving a phone call or text following up after the fact.
It might be coming by with a plate of cookies for my husband who just had knee surgery …
or posting a review of a book you liked, just to increase visibility or engagement with the product.
Mine heart happiness has always been sparked by baking, so this week, I baked our Halloween pumpkin, then made six batches of pumpkin bread. I posted on Facebook for anyone local to come pick some up. The Principal of a neighboring school took me up on it, so she could treat her front-office staff to some kindness from my kitchen.
It wrapped my heart in love to get this picture that afternoon. A couple of people I’ve never met came by to get one, too; one of the new friends is making pork egg rolls for us tomorrow. Talk about your win-win.
I find it so serendipitous that our book earned a Mom’s Choice Gold Award on what would have been my mom’s 88th birthday. Sigh. If only I could share that news with her.
We are honored, grateful, and excited to be endorsed by the MCA family.
After returning to TX from WI, this week included visits with 10 classes to read the book and talk about the writing process with budding authors and illustrators in grades four and five at Bales Intermediate.
The visits all began by talking about selecting a theme – mine is empathy! – and jazzing it up a little with this poem I wrote using the hand-jive motions. Then we talk about choosing a topic, and I share the back story of the unfinished slippers that we found in my grandma Larsen’s closet at her passing, and how, some 15 years later, I was able to finish them and give them to my mom for her stay in the assisted living home.
After reading the story aloud with the illustrations projected on the big screen, I take questions and comments from our listening audience. How it makes my soul sing to hear their feelings, thoughts, and reflections about the text and McKenna’s heartfelt artwork. One young man told me that he noticed I used a lot of literary elements; another asked for my autograph.
In a fun twist, my illustrator was their Art teachers in the primary grades, so they already love her and know so much about using color to convey emotions and mood.
At the end, the most thoughtful thing happened: Mrs. Dixon presented me with a plate of Monster Cookies, from the recipe that she found in the back of the book.
It touched my heart so profoundly that she would not only bake for us, but make Gramma Emma’s cookies. She’s walking the talk as she gives empathy, compassion, and kindness wings.
One last shot from a school visit that has imprinted itself on my heart …
… my wish for you, dear reader, is that you will forever be able to find and feel this kind of unbridled joy.
Today I had the pleasure of visiting not one, but three classes of second-grade superheroes. The first two classes were classmates of my cousin’s son, Owen, in Grafton, WI. It was like a homecoming of sorts, because I was with them last year around this time to read Mr. Quigley’s Keys with them. Today I had the pleasure of sharing Knit Back Together.
Next stop, Mrs. Huber’s class in Cedarburg, WI, where I got to enJOY not only reading my book, but also sharing with them about the writing process, specifically the editing and revising step that some budding authors would rather skip.
I get it; I didn’t much care for the myriad edits that I kept on making, especially when they kept me up at night, but since I wanted the book to be the best that it could be, I kept on revising until I had it exactly the way it is now, two Focus Groups and so many versions later.
After falling for these incredible superhero friends, I left with a spring in my step and a request that they send pictures when they’d finished the coloring sheets we gave them.
Here now, their beautiful works of heart:
Slippers and smiles that exude their best-effort Dolphin pride.
Tomorrow, I’m off to another favorite, Howard Elementary near Green Bay.
As the sun sets on this incredible day, I’m counting my blessings . . .
. . . and that includes you, dear reader. Thank you for being a part of my journey.
Barbara Gruener 