Tag: writing

Precious September Moments

Barbara Gruener

As September comes to a close, a few memories have my heart.

The most recent is the opportunity to put together this basket of goodies for donation to a FUNdraiser for The Birthday Joy Program, a non-profit that has my friend Kim’s heart. She reached out and offered to buy all of my books, if I’d sign them and throw in an author visit for an upcoming event. I’d love that, I told her, and I’m happy to fill the basket with other goodies, like Word Searches for the three picture books, Scented Flairs to use for finding the words, some stickers, a set of antique keys, and a fun pair of heart-shaped respectacles.

I’m typically not too crafty when it comes to putting gift baskets together, but this one seemed to come together on its own!

A second indelible memory comes from the Kindness Kickoff in Wisconsin mid-month. I loved connecting with the kids and teaching them a few ASL signs.

Photo credit: Howard-Suamico School District

I thought that their Book Walk idea was super creative; just look how they lined the path with the pages of Mr. Quigley’s Keys. It felt so honoring to walk this nature trail while reading my words of empathy and connection.

And at every outdoor station, a chance to connect with a caregiver; my character cam caught this young gardener and her Dad planting this succulent to take home.

All of this, including the cute gardening gloves, paid for by a Donor’s Choose grant. Brilliant!

September also brought me to my Dad’s doctor, where I saw this sign.

It’s true, you know. Just a drop of empathy can go a really long way, because change ripples!

Take my sticker girl, Daisy, for example. Read what her empathy did for her StuCo campaign.

Her empathy for the other candidates told her that they needed buttons, too. Just a drop sent ripples straight to the hearts of her opponents.

I’m not even sure if she won a spot on the Student Council that day, but empathy wins every day.

Then, last week, an incredible Ted Lasso clip that not only talks about empathy, and holding space, and co-regulating, but actually uses precious air time to show how empathy looks, sounds, feels. Disclaimer: There’s a lot of adult language in the Ted Lasso series, but not in this powerful September scene, so isolate it and share it far and wide, then discuss what’s happening to make empathy memories of your own.

Next up? I’m working on two presentations for a group of about 200 sixth, seventh, and eighth graders. Then I get to return to Wisconsin, where I’ll not only help my Dad out post-op but get a chance to return to the grade school where I attended back in the 70’s and talk with the learners about being an author. October promises to bring memories of its own, including some color as the seasons bring about foliage change.

We were about a week too early to catch the Autumn colors, but I did manage to find one branch of one tree starting the transition, an over-achiever, I surmised; that said, I was able to collect some of nature’s treasures and bring them back to a few Texas students, who thought they were pretend and not real.

Their teachers gave them a whiff of Autumn, then planned to sort them by shape and color …

do leaf rubbings and make leaf monsters,

then let them each their favorite one home.

One the right, the real Frances, from Knit Back Together; look at how gingerly she’s caring for her leaf.

When Mrs. Mirón asked her kindergarten students what they should do for me to show their appreciation, she got these sweet answers:

1. Buy her a beautiful dress with glitter and bows on it. 🥹

2. Give her a matching bow for her hair and pajamas and a shirt and a matching dress and matching shoes so Miss Barbara and Mrs. Mirón and me match. 🥰

3. Get her a robot that cleans the house and does everything so she doesn’t have to pick up her things and be tired going back and forth from the couch to the fridge. And the robot can also put her to bed. 😊

Yes, please, to all of them. More empathy with gratitude on top.

So many precious September moments; thank you for stopping by to keep the ripple alive.

1825 Sunsets

Barbara Gruener

Hey hey, dear reader, happy September 2026! This summer was filled with incredibly precious moments and magical memory makers for me. What started in June with a once-in-a-lifetime mother-daughter birthday trip to NYC, continued in July with an anniversary celebration on a breathtaking Alaskan Cruise, and ended in August with an impromptu and inspiring road trip back home to Wisconsin when our nearly-ninety-year-old father showed up in his car in Texas, with a paper map and no idea how big our state is, to meet his new great granddaughter. Sigh.

And what an amazing adventure it was! The first day, we drove as far as Hot Springs, Arkansas, where we spent the night with the cousin who was my best friend in childhood. It was like oxygen to be with her again.

The second day, we drove for twelve hours all the way back to our hometown of Wayside, WI, so that Dad could get back to his corn ministry at church. We listened to classical music, shared stories from our lifetimes, and laughed so much it hurt. An incredible gift, one I’ll never forget.

While in Wayside, more laughter when Lori and Dave stopped by en route to a pre-season Packers game to reconnect and reminisce. How special to have these hometown friendships that have stood the test of time, fifty-plus years, to be exact. Dave brought six of my books to donate and signing them was such an honor to me.

Just look at how happy my Dad looks. August 25th marked the five-year anniversary of Mipps’ death, so signing a copy of Birdie & Mipps in front of him with our sibling picture hanging on the wall behind him felt like a serendipitous full-circle moment.

It’s hard to believe that he has missed 1825 sunsets since he left us. Mipps did love a good sunset, and this one is especially personal because that’s our family farm in the distance.

So I’m back in Texas now and ready for some R & R from my travels, so thankful for life’s sweetness and for the reminder about what really matters: Faith. Family. Friends. Fellowship.

I’m also grateful to hear from readers; here’s an email I received while I was away.

**************************************

Hi Barbara,

I came across Knit Back Together, and I found the emotional heart of Levi’s story incredibly touching.

What immediately stood out to me is that Levi isn’t simply dealing with the loss of someone he loves. After the sudden passing of his beloved Grams, he is left trying to understand how to move forward when the person who had been his guiding light is suddenly gone.

Then he arrives at a new school carrying that grief with him, only to discover something unexpected: a knitting center in his classroom and a new friendship with Frances.

I especially liked the symbolism of knitting in the story.

Levi’s heart feels broken, and yet the very activity that initially seems unfamiliar to him becomes part of his healing.

The question of whether knitting is “just for girls” or “just for grandmas” also gives the story another meaningful layer, allowing children to challenge assumptions while discovering that creativity, friendship, and emotional healing belong to everyone.

And the idea of being “knit back together” gives the book a beautiful way to talk about grief without making the story feel hopeless.

****************************************

Thank you, Chloe, for your kind reflections.

Oddly enough, these summertime opps knit me back together in a way that I didn’t know I needed.

And I’m forever grateful.

So as I continue celebrating my 65th year, do let me know if there’s anything that I can do this upcoming school year to support you in your character building.

Happy cheers!

Knitting Trust, One Stitch At A Time

Barbara Gruener

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?

Sticking Our Necks Out

Barbara Gruener

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.

Happy slide into summer, dear reader.

All Those Years Ago

Barbara Gruener

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.

Wrapped In Love

Barbara Gruener

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.

What’s your go-to way to wrap someone in love?

Our Mom’s Choice Gold Award

Barbara Gruener

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.

Young Minds Focus Group

Barbara Gruener

Hello August; can I ask you where June and July went?

I know for me, a lot of hours were spent playing around … and playing with words as I put the finishing edits on the text for my new picture book. Just yesterday, I met with the last of my Young Minds Focus Groups; what a great experience, to read my book aloud and get first-hand feedback from the actual audience that I’m writing this book for.

Their mom posted this lovely reflection after our time together:

I was blessed to work with their older brother, Even, when they first moved to town a decade ago; as a bonus, he was there visiting as I read to the girls to get their thoughts and feelings. I wanted to ask him how it felt to have storytime with Mrs. Gruener after all of these years, but I chickened out. He was in the fifth grade back then and I didn’t want to embarrass either of us.

So the book is coming along beautifully; any day now, the editor will start working on adding fonts and editing any errors or issues. We are hopeful for a September release.

For fun, I’m sharing my favorite illustration from our uber-talented Art Educator and Artist, McKenna Giamfortone. Just look at how brilliant her black-line watercolor pictures are.

Can you feel the warmth on this page, even without the context or the words?

I’ve also used coloring.app to create a coloring sheet to complement our story.

I am so very grateful to the Road To Awesome publishing team and excited about putting this story out into the world and onto the hearts of its potential readers. To create intrigue, I will share that the traits it tackles include loss, grief, friendship, joy and love while it revolves around the healing powers of knitting.

Stay tuned for more details; do reach out if you’ve got a budding author or artist who would like to be a part of my Young Minds Focus Group. It’s a great chance to get inside the heart and mind of an author while possibly providing key changes that could make our story even better.

Appreciating Teachers

Barbara Gruener

It’s Teacher Appreciation Week 2025; how are you celebrating?

My Monday started out at Bales Intermediate, previewing my new book with Mrs. Dixon’s and Mrs. Thurman’s fifth-grade learners. I asked them to be my Focus Group, for feedback and input. Their former Art teacher is our illustrator, so that was a fun connection for them. More details to come; we hope to put it on the market this August.

When I was leaving, Mrs. Conn from across the hall asked if I could read to her class. So on Wednesday, I headed back to Bales to read Birdie & Mipps as we celebrate its one-year book birthday. When I get these amazing opportunities, I’m reminded how much I miss read-aloud time.

I left a copy for the class after our read-aloud; here we are, looking for Mipps’ given name, hidden within the text.

These curious learners had a lot of questions and connections, but my favorite reflection was a compliment: “Your voice is so good that you could actually read books on YouTube.” Is that not the sweetest thing? I thanked her and told her that back in 1979, when I won a State Forensics Storytelling competition, that one of the judges wrote, “You could make money with that voice,” and she agreed. “You could!”

Tomorrow my appreciation continues, when I Zoom to a classroom in PA, to read Mr. Quigley’s Keys. I sent them ’empa-KEYS ahead of time, so it’ll be fun to give those out from deep in the heart of Texas.

In the meantime, I’ve been sending these magnets to some energizing educators to remind them that they matter; this one made its way to Joe Beckman in Minnesota.

Dear Teachers,

YOU are appreciated. YOU are valued. YOU are loved, not only this week, but always, because YOU are showing up and doing the holy work, holding the hearts of our REAL national treasure, the children, our future.

Thank you, thank you.

Barbara

Side By Side

Barbara Gruener

Today I’m thinking about the power of the side-by-side walk ‘n talk, a reflection that started for me on Easter Sunday morning when we took this family walk.

Our granddaughter, Leah, who is not quite 14 months old, is a bit cautious around adults she doesn’t know very well yet, so, as you can imagine, she’s not sure about letting her Uncle Joshua, who lives three hours away, play with her or talk to her, much less hug or hold her.

What I did notice, however, was that on this Sunday morning stroll, she reached for his hand.

My heart melted the moment I saw this, so I asked his wife, Auntie Ariana, to capture this Kodak moment for me because Leah was just a chattering away, almost as if unaware that she didn’t really know her walking companion well enough to let him guide her down the sidewalk.

Or maybe, it’s just not as vulnerable to walk side by side as you talk?

I’m reminded that my Dad and his siblings always used to stay in the car and talk, sometimes for hours, after they’d return from an outing. Is it possible that it’s just easier to share personal issues and deeper insights with someone side by side?

Our poolside chairs sit side by side; could it be that that’s why it’s our favorite gathering place …

when the weather cooperates (and we have new chairs!)?

In our book, Birdie & Mipps, the siblings take a stroll to talk through an issue that Mipps is having, an inadvertent problem he caused and needs solve, a friendship that he wants to save, but they don’t sit down face-to-face. Instead, they’re on a walk ‘n talk alongside one another.

Side by side. So it’s comforting, not uncomfortable as Birdie helps Mipps face what he’s done, understand why it’s a problem (even though quite by accident), and talk through what he can do to mend his misstep.

What are your thoughts on this? Would you rather chat face to face or side by side? Perhaps it matters what you’re chatting about? Sound off in the comments or drop me an email.

In the meantime, drumroll please: Our Focus-group feedback is favorable and our incredible illustrator McKenna is feverishly working up the sketches for my third picture book, due to release later this year. Thank you, dear reader, for sharing in our excitement.

Do keep checking back as details will soon start to unravel. 🧶