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Why Do People Die?: Helping Your Child Understand-With Love and Illustrations (Hardcover)

by Cynthia MacGregor (Author)
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Editorial Reviews
From School Library Journal
Reminiscent of Peter Mayle's Where Did I Come From?, this book explains death, its effect on the living, and some of the beliefs, customs, and rituals associated with it.
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

The Children's Bookwatch/The Midwest Book Review
The passing of a relative or friend can be a bewildering time for children. Why Do People Die? is a poignant, moving, and straight-forward book wherein children will discover answers to their questions when those they love die. Designed to be read aloud to young children, Why Do People Die? is a full-color picture book that delivers information forthrightly, honestly, and in a consoling tone. It answers all the questions children could possibly ask, such as why people die, what happens at a funeral, and why the child feels so sad. A parent who is stuck for words or needs a little help with an explanation will find here a sensitively illustrated text that eases children's minds and brings them comfort and assurance. Cynthia MacGregor's sensitive and informative text is superbly illustrated by David Clark's colorful and engaging illustrations.

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Product Details
Cynthia MacGregor's latest blog posts
       
 
Cynthia MacGregor sent the following post to customers who purchased Why Do People Die?: Helping Your Child Understand-With Love and Illustrations
  

Writing Has Many Rewards

4:42 AM PDT, June 27, 2006
A recent occurrence has left me feeling very honored. It’s a slightly longish story that begins simply and inauspiciously enough.

In the run-up to Independence Day, the condo in which I have been living for the last two-and-a-half years now put up a notice that there would be a July Fourth dinner on July 2nd in the Clubhouse. I know of condos that have far more events – dinners and dances and suchlike – than ours does, but we never fail to celebrate the Major Holidays (and around here that seems to include St. Patrick’s Day and Valentine’s Day) with an event at the Clubhouse. For Memorial Day and July Fourth, in addition to the open bar, buffet dinner, (canned) music, dancing, and games, there is always a program of some sort involving a patriotic song and a few readings, usually of patriotic-themed material taken from the Internet.

My grandmother was a patriot. She sold more war bonds than anyone else during one of the bond drives of WW II, and she brought me up to play with toys soldiers, sailors, and paratroopers. When other little kids were learning to sing “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” Nanny taught me to sing “Three Cheers for the Red, White and Blue” (as she called it – it was actually the chorus of “Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean”).

It was from my grandmother that I absorbed the patriotism I still feel, even when I sometimes feel that America is on a wrong course.

But to get back to the condo shindigs – wait, it will all tie in together – you’ll see – for the last three patriotic holidays, Memorial Day of this year and July Fourth and Memorial Day of last year, I was asked if I would give one of the readings. I gladly addressed the assemblage and read the words that had been put in my hand.

Somebody else’s words.

This year, after the notice went up about the impending party, I began reflecting that in all likehood either Lu or Helen would approach me again about giving a reading. And, once again, they would put words in my hand. Somebody else’s words.

Why not write and read my own?

So I called Lu and left word on her voicemail: If, as I assumed, she was planning to ask me to give a reading at the July Fourth dinner, would she consider letting me write something myself and read that?

Before she had a chance to call back, inspiration struck, and I wrote a poem. I called back, got her voicemail again, and advised her that, seized with inspiration after my previous call, I had just written a poem. If she was interested in my possibly reading it at the July Fourth dinner, I would be happy to read it to her over the phone for her approval.

Now comes the good part.

My friend Carolyn called me shortly thereafter. Carolyn is a professional entertainer. We are involved together in an ongoing business project, and Carolyn’s call was with questions in reference to the project. But when we had wrapped up the biz part of the call, it devolved into “What’s new with you?” and I told her about the poem. She asked to hear it. I read it to her.

Carolyn then informed me that she was to be in Jacksonville on July Fourth, entertaining the sailors at a naval base there, as part of a USO show for the patriotic holiday…and that she would love to read my poem aloud to the troops, giving me full credit for it.

I told her I was honored. And meant it quite literally! If there is any life after death, and if my grandmother is watching the events unfolding down here from wherever-she-is, then I am sure she was beaming proudly at that moment.

Carolyn told me she was honored that I would let her use the poem in the USO show.

So on July Fourth – which may be long past as you read this but is yet to come as I write it – my poem about America will be read aloud to the assembled sailors and other personnel at the naval station in Jacksonville. And I am proud. And honored.

Of course, when Lu from the condo called back, she said that yes, she had wanted me to give a reading, and yes, something I had written myself would be welcome, and no, she didn’t want to hear it in advance – she trusted me, and if I had written it, it would be all right, and besides, she didn’t want to hear it in advance – she wanted to be surprised by it and hear it for the first time at the dinner, like everyone else. Though that was certainly nice to hear, it was a bit of an anticlimax to Carolyn’s request that I let her read my poem in the U.S.O. show.   
 
I still, several days later, get a small thrill every time I think about my poem being honored in that way.

There are many rewards, of many different kinds, involved in being a writer.