Summary
Newbery Honor-winning author Patricia Reilly Giff writes a tender, timeless story about a girl who stopped speaking long ago, and how she finds her way back to her voice. For fans of Listening for Lucca, Fish in a Tree, The Rules, and Mockingbird .
Judith lives with her beloved aunt Cora and her faithful Dog on a beautiful island. Years ago, when her mother left, Judith stopped talking. Now she communicates entirely through gestures and taps, and by drawing cartoons, speaking only when she's alone--or with Dog.
This year, Judith faces a big change--leaving her small, special classroom for a regular fifth-grade class. She likes her new teacher, and finds a maybe-friend in a boy named Mason. But Jubilee's wandering feet won't stop until they find her mother. And now she discovers that her mother has moved back to the mainland, nearby. If Jubilee finds her, will her mother's love be what she needs to speak again?
Judith's cartoons, sprinkled throughout, add lightness and humor.
ILA-CBC Choices Reading Lists, Children's Choices
Selected for the Kansas NEA Reading Circle Catalog
Author Notes
Patricia Reilly Giff was born in Brooklyn, New York on April 26, 1935. She knew she wanted to be a writer, even as a little girl. She received a Bachelor of Arts in Education from Marymount College, a Master's of Arts from St. John's University, and a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University.
After she graduated from college, she taught in the public schools in New York City until 1960 and then in the public schools in Elmont, New York from 1964 until 1971. She then became a reading consultant before finally, at the age of 40, deciding to write a book. She also worked as an educational consultant for Dell Yearling and Young Yearling Books and as an advisor and instructor to aspiring writers. Her first book, Today Was a Terrible Day, was published in 1980. She is the author of more than 100 children's books, as well as a member of the Society of Children's Book Writers.
Together with her husband, Giff opened "The Dinosaur's Paw," a children's bookstore named after one of her own stories. She is the author of the Polk Street School books. Lily's Crossing, about the homefront during World War II, was named a Newberry Honor Book by the American Library Association as well as an ALA Notable Book for Children. The novel also won the Boston Globe-Horn Book Award Honor. Her companion book to Lily's Crossing, Genevieve's War, won a 2018 Christopher Award. Pictures of Hollis Woods was also named a Newberry Honor Book and Nory Ryan's Song was named an ALA Best Book for Young Adults.
Patricia Reilly Giff died on June 22, 2021. She was 86.
(Bowker Author Biography)
School Library Journal Review
Gr 4-7-Jubilee lives on an island with her aunt Cora. Jubilee hasn't spoken a word to any person since her mother dropped her off to live there when she was little. Instead, she communicates with gestures, taps, and drawings. A school psychologist diagnosed the girl with selective mutism. Jubilee has just started fifth grade when she meets Mason, a "sloppy kid who talks too much." They are paired together for a class project, and Mason does not mind that she doesn't talk. He encourages her to draw cartoons to use for their project. Amid the school project, the core of the story revolves around Jubilee longing to meet her mother and learn why she left. Jubilee thinks that in solving the mystery, she will get her speech back. When a birthday card for Aunt Cora arrives from her mother, Jubilee discovers that her mom has moved back to the mainland nearby. Giff pens an emotionally sweet, heartfelt novel of not only friendship but also longing and hope as Jubilee carves her own path. Her bond with Mason and his acceptance of her give her strength and bolster her determination to do what it takes to make her dreams come true. They share a gentle, tender bond that will have readers rooting for both of them. VERDICT A poignant tale of family, friendship, and inner courage. A wonderful addition to middle grade collections.-Erin Holt, Williamson County Public Library, Franklin, TN © Copyright 2016. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Publisher's Weekly Review
This slender novel about a silent child speaks loudly to the healing power of relationships, both human and canine. "Everything is right around the corner, Judith. You just have to make it happen." These encouraging words present a particular challenge to Judith Ann Magennis, a fifth grader who hasn't spoken since her mother abandoned her years earlier. "Something had to be crazy about a girl who talked to a mirror instead of people, a girl whose mother took off and left her," Judith tells herself. Raised by her loving Aunt Cora on an island off Maine (and nicknamed Jubilee because, "You're a celebration!"), Judith wants desperately to feel normal in her mainstreamed classroom; instead, she is hurt as peers cast her aside in misunderstanding. Can a dog and an unlikely new friend, both castoffs in their own ways, help Judith take steps toward speaking again? Giff (Until I Find Julian) fills Judith's story with bighearted characters and a palpable sense of place that readers will be glad to spend time with. Ages 8-12. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Horn Book Review
Judith, called Jubilee by her adoptive mother, Aunt Cora, might not speak aloud to anyone but herself in the mirror, but she certainly has a lot on her mind. Shes been raised since toddlerhood on an island off the Maine coast, having been abandoned by her young biological mother. The first chapter is short and action-filled, culminating in a dog being tossed overboard by a stranger and Jubilee rescuing him with the efficiency of a girl who knows her way around the Maine waters. School is about to start for Jubilee, and soon she will be in deep water of another sort: for the first time, she will be a member of a mainstream fifth-grade class without the support of a special-needs teacher for her selective mutism. Giff examines the bonds that people create, both with other people and with animals. Caring adults (Aunt Cora and her boyfriend Gideon, new teacher Ms. Quirk, school psychologist Mr. Kauffman) are willing to let this sensitive little girl take all the time she needs to figure out the world around her. The pace of the story rewards the patient reader, as sometimes it takes a while for things to work themselves out. Giff gets the island-life details right: children are allowed a lot of freedom; islanders are fiercely independent, but everyone pulls together when a storm blows in; the ferry will run on schedule if it can; and everyone will stop to look for a missing child. robin smith (c) Copyright 2016. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Booklist Review
Ever since her mother dropped her off as a toddler to live with Aunt Cora, Judith hasn't spoken a word, except to a mirror. She's insecure at times and longs to be normal, though she feels at home with her aunt in their close-knit island community off the coast of Maine. Despite the pain she feels when her ex-friend Sophie murmurs, Nobody wants you, Judith begins to hope that her fifth-grade year will be better. After all, she has a rescued dog in her life, an understanding new teacher, and the possibility of a new friend. Her mother's return precipitates a crisis that enables Judith to move forward. The author of two Newbery Honor Book novels, Giff writes with quiet precision about Judith's world and her tentative steps toward confidence, connection, and acceptance. Adults as well as children are portrayed in a convincing, empathetic manner, whatever their flaws and quirks may be. At intervals throughout the story, cartoonlike illustrations representing Judith's drawings illustrate her expressive first-person narrative. A rewarding chapter book.--Phelan, Carolyn Copyright 2016 Booklist
Excerpts
Chapter 1 The last day of freedom. School tomorrow! I sat on the edge of the wharf, legs dangling, holding my pad and pencils. I drew a kid with red hair and green eyes, brows a little thick. I used quick lines for a pointy nose, and a squirrely nest of corkscrews for the hair. It was turning out to be a girl like me, Judith Ann Magennis. I tapped the pencil. What was missing? Of course, the mouth. My pencil hovered over the blank space. I tore the paper out of the pad, scrunched it up, and tossed it into the water. Maybe like a mother who'd toss a kid away. I hid my pad and pencils under a rock and slid down under the wharf to cool off. Water swished in, and I spread my hands like starfish to capture bits of shells. Noise exploded above me--pounding on the wooden planks. "I'm going to get you!" a voice yelled. Me? I ducked under the water and came up dripping. I listened as feet barreled out to the deep end. Not me after all. "Yeow!" someone yelled, and there was a huge splash. I peered out from behind a splintery piling. What was going on? "Serves you right, Mason!" the voice shouted. "Keep your hands off my books. Fingerprints all over them!" Mason. I knew who he was. He was always a mess. Once I'd seen him rolling down the hill with his brother. He was on the bottom, then winning, on top, grass stains and mud all over him. I glanced up through the spaces in the wharf and caught a glimpse of his brother, Jerry, who walked away, acting as if he owned the world. In the water, Mason was a perfect cartoon, mouth open, sputtering, hair plastered to his head. He swam around the side of the wharf and scrambled up onto the sand. Then he was gone. I climbed up to the wharf and shook my hair dry. I loved this island. In the distance I could see the coast of Maine, a misty purple blur. And across from me were wooden walls that creaked and groaned when the ferry edged into the slip. My mother had left on that ferry when I was a toddler, dropping me off at Aunt Cora's as if I were a bundle of laundry. She sent presents at Christmas and cards on my birthday, postmarked Oakdale, or Vista, or even Apple Valley. She signed them Mom, or Mother, or her name, Amber. She didn't even know what to call herself. A small boat sped by, sending up a curved wake. A man at the tiller turned off the motor and shouted back at me. "Hey, kid!" I raised my hand to wave. "Want a dog?" Before I could move, he'd picked up a dog and dropped him into the water. "Can't keep him." He switched on the motor again and veered toward open water. The dog struggled, paddling against the boat's wake. Poor dog. Without thinking, I raced along the wharf and dived into the water. There was a fierce riptide here. It made no difference to me. Gideon, the ferry boat captain, had taught me to swim by the time I was three. "Swim with the tide, then around it," he'd told me. "Don't fight it." But the dog was fighting; I could see how tired he was. And soon he'd pass the end of the island and be swept out to sea. I couldn't speak, but I could certainly swim! I took long, sure strokes and kicked hard and evenly. When I was close to him, I grabbed the narrow blue collar around his neck, but it came apart in my hand. I gripped a handful of his thick fur; then, with one arm around his neck, I swam back to shore. Chapter 2 We lay there on the warm sand, Dog's great dark eyes on me. When his fur was dried and combed, it would be close to the color of my hair, only lighter. Now he was shivering and cold, but more than that, he was afraid. I rolled in close to him, hugging him to me, warming him. Did I want a dog? Oh, yes! And I was sure Aunt Cora would be glad to let me have him. I put my mouth against that matted fur and whispered, "You're home, Dog. You'll never have to see the terrible man on the boat again." He couldn't hear me. There was only one place I could speak loud enough to be heard, and it was all the way up the hill, deep inside Ivy Cottage. But I felt the syrup of happiness being with this dog. He was feeling it too. Then I remembered. Aunt Cora had sat next to me at breakfast this morning. In her slow, deliberate way, she'd begun: "You'll be in a new class this year, a regular fifth grader, with thirteen boys and girls." No more special class? No more Mrs. Leahy and four other kids? "Why shouldn't you be in a regular class?" Aunt Cora said. "Because you don't speak? You do other things." She counted on her fingers. "You're a great reader. You do math problems faster than I can. Your cartoons are spectacular." She gave me a quick hug. "And most of all, you'll be with more kids. You'll make friends, Jubilee." That's what she called me: Jubilee. "You're a celebration!" she always said. Some celebration! Mrs. Leahy, my old teacher, called me Judy. Gideon, the ferry captain, called me Red because of my Pippi Longstocking hair. And Sophie's five-year-old brother, Travis, called me No-Talk Girl. Sophie. Before first grade, Sophie and I were best friends. We dug tiny gardens together. We gathered stones and built houses that toppled into each other and made us laugh. But one day, I'd heard Jenna ask, "How can you be friends with a weirdo like Judith, who doesn't talk?" So no more building, no more friend. I stood now and squeezed water out of my shorts. Dog stood next to me, shaking himself, drops of water flying. It was time to look at that fifth-grade classroom. I pulled my pad from under the rock, then started toward Shore Road. Dog didn't follow. His tail wagged uncertainly. I went back and ran my hands over his head, down his back. We belonged together. I wanted him to know that. I walked a few feet, and still he watched. Then, at last, he took a step toward me. A moment later, we loped along the road together. In back of the school, I raised myself on tiptoe to see inside my new room. Desks were scattered every which way, and the chalkboard was dusty. A new teacher danced across the front, her sandy hair in ringlets. She glanced toward the window, then went to the chalkboard and wrote her name: Ms. Quirk. Underneath she wrote WELCOME. Had she seen me? I raised my hand to wave, but a ball smashed into the windowsill, just missing me. It bounced back against the cement and rolled away across the yard. I turned. Mason! Why would he try to hit me? No wonder his brother was after him. I gave Dog a pat, and then we ran past the school and tore up the dirt road toward Windy Hill and Ivy Cottage. It really wasn't a cottage anymore. The roof had caved in and vines covered the whole thing, so no one else knew it was there. It was almost mine. Halfway there, Dog paused, nose twitching, tail high. What had he heard? Was Mason following us? Then I saw what Dog had spotted on the ground: old branches were piled together with a row of stones in front. Someone's hiding spot. A very messy one. A face peered out at me: a mop of pale hair, blue eyes, and more freckles than I could count. It was Sophie's little brother, Travis. He grinned, showing a missing front tooth. With a rustle of leaves, he disappeared again. Dog sat in front of the hiding spot, whining in a let's play voice, until Travis poked his head out again. His finger went to his lips. "Shhh." I nodded. He'd escaped from Sophie. He did that all the time. I'd hear her calling, her voice loud, then whistling shrilly. Sometimes I'd hear him laughing. "You can come in, No-Talk Girl," he said. "It's my best place. But it's a secret. Sophie will make me go home and wash my face and say my numbers. She's a bossy girl, and I'm not a baby, you know." Dog and I crawled inside. Next to Travis was a book with a torn cover, a bag of half-chewed orange slices, and a pencil and paper. "You can draw me while I read," he said. I smoothed out the paper and drew a cartoon--a boy with a swirl of a hair, laughing eyes, and an upside-down book--while he made up a story about a girl who didn't speak. Dog's head went up again. Travis put his hand over his mouth. Mason walked by, his feet crunching on old leaves. If he'd looked down he'd have seen us, but he kept going. Why had Mason thrown the ball at me? Just mean, maybe. I'd stay away from him. I signed the cartoon Judith Magennis, handed it to Travis, and went with Dog to hang out at Ivy Cottage. Excerpted from Jubilee by Patricia Reilly Giff All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.