Always Remember, Charlie Mackesy. Penguin Life (ISBN: 9780593994825) 2025.
Summary: The boy, the mole, the fox, and the horse continue their journey together and learn what it takes to get through storms.
The boy, the mole, the fox and the horse are back! For those who loved the quill-written and illustrated story of four creatures who discover the beauty of mutual love, kindness to oneself, and the joys of cake, the journey continues! While they don’t know where they are going, they are not lost because they have each other.
The new element in this story is the storm and how one gets through. So much is remembering to take the next step, that love is stronger, and that the sky is always blue above the storm clouds. A crisis comes when the boy falls behind the other three. Was he at fault? Or were they? The turning point comes when he remembers who he is, that he is loved. He decides in their absence to be a friend to himself and to love himself. And then, one by one, the friends reappear. And the boy confesses another lesson: “When we are vulnerable to each other,” whispered the boy… “We are strong.” And the best thing about storms is that they end.
Throughout, the boy struggles with his own sense of inadequacy. He’s not good at anything, but he is kind, which is everything and he doesn’t give up. He discovers from mole that the answer to many of his questions is cake. And when the storm is inside, he can take shelter with his friends.
Beyond all this, Mackesy explores bravery. Sometimes bravery is admitting one doesn’t feel very brave. Sometimes it is taking the next step, or even the next breath. Then, for mole, it is fighting off a cake ambush by eating it! Most of all, bravery is the courage to love.
Mackesy mixes rough sketches with finely rendered paintings. The one that I thought the most beautiful renders a river valley in soft but lush colors with the four in the foreground. Mole says this is one of his favorite places. The boy asks, “Because it is so beautiful?” Mole replies, “Because we are all here.” I just stopped and savored that beautiful moment with them.
Mackesy would have us “always remember” that we are loved, to be gentle and kind both to others and ourselves, and the gift of friendship. But he presses into the harder side of the human journey–storms and aloneness–and how we make it through.
This is a wonderful gift for all ages and a story families will cherish together. Be kind both to yourself and to others and buy a few this holiday season!
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
One of the most chilling conversations I had about twenty years ago was with a progressive law student who argued for the repeal of the First Amendment. More recently, the arguments have come from conservative voices. Just as chilling.
The First Amendment, I would argue, is one of the most extraordinary statements in the history of government, perhaps alongside and a direct descendent of the Magna Carta. It sets forth a seamless garment of freedom consisting of five strands: freedom of religion, freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of assembly, and freedom to petition the government.
Those living in the United States may believe, say, and publish what they choose with a few exceptions, gather with like-minded people, and individually and collectively appeal to the government to make right a grievance. It doesn’t mean we are free to defame another, incite to imminent lawless action, threaten violence, engage in obscenity, or commit fraud. And it doesn’t permit civil disobedience, the breaking of a law in making a protest. Those who commit civil disobedience need to understand that they may be charged and punished for their act.
Today is the day of “No Kings” demonstrations throughout the United States. Whatever you think of these gatherings, I hope we can affirm the First Amendment Rights of those who protest, so long as their words and actions do not exceed First Amendment protections. But it means living with speech we may not like, even speech to which we may take offense. That’s why the law students I was speaking with twenty years ago wanted to do away with the First Amendment. They believed in a mythical freedom to not be offended or disagreed with. And I think it is the same thing that may animate calls to repeal the First Amendment today.
Every reader, no matter your politics, should oppose any such effort. To restrict what we may say, believe, and publish is to restrict what we may read and think. But this means seeing books we disagree with. In addition, it means defending the right to publish and seek an audience for such books. However, it also means the freedom to make good arguments about what is wrong with those books. For example, it protects the freedom of book critics to “pan” a book. The remedy for free speech we don’t like or disagree with is dissenting free speech. In essence, that means not less speech but more.
Therefore, as readers, let’s keep the First Amendment first!
Five Articles Worth Reading
But can we use speech to build bridges rather than walls? “The Connector” profiles former atheist turned Catholic Leah Libresco Sargeant. She promotes discourse across divides. Likewise, her own ideas fail to fit neatly into our political boxes.
One of my favorite U2 songs is “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” “A Warning for the Modern Striver” review a biography of Peter Matthiessen, portraying his life as a relentless search for “True Nature.”
Have you ever walked into a bookstore, glimpsed the new releases and wondered what is worth perusing and perhaps buying. The Millions’ “Great Fall 2025 Book Preview” came out this week with around one hundred titles they considered worth reading. They offer brief summaries of each book.
But where do you go to buy such books? One place might be Recluse Books if you are anywhere near Fort Worth, Texas. “Recluse books” interviews one of the store owners who made this comment on the name of the store: “There’s so much focus on the reclusive writer, but reading is also a reclusive, solitary activity. It requires you to focus on something and be alone with the words if you’re really going to do it well.” Sounds like my kind of place!
Finally, developing a kinder, gentler culture begins with each of us. One thing it means is building real friendships rather than just having online “friends” and “followers.” And for parents, it means helping our children build good friendships, as well. “3 Picture Books That Capture the Essence of Friendship” might be a place to begin.
Quote of the Week
Playwright Eugene O’Neill was born October 16, 1888. He made this thought-provoking observation:
“Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue.”
Miscellaneous Musings
I was captivated by Charlie Mackesy’s The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse. So I was delighted to receive Always Remember, his new book, featuring the same characters, drawn in the same way.
Although I no longer write about Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown, I still love books with a Youngstown connection. Runs in the Family is the story of Deland McCullough, a former NFL running back and coach who grew up on Youngstown’s East side. He was adopted, and only in his forties did he learn who his parents were, giving him the surprise of his life.
I review a lot of Christian literature. So, I found myself resonating with Matthew James Smith’s article “I Don’t Like Christian Literature.” Paradoxically, he argues that the books he has liked are the ones that don’t make him feel good. I agree. Thus, I try to find those books to review (though not always succeeding).
Next Week’s Reviews
Monday: Mitchell Chase, Walking the Way of the Wise
Tuesday: Ethan Tapper, How to Love a Forest
Wednesday: Stephen J. Chester, Paul Through the Eyes of the Reformers
Thursday: Sarah Spain and Deland McCullough, Runs in the Family
Friday: Erin F. Moniz, Knowing and Being Known
So, that’s The Weekly Wrap for October 12-18.
Find past editions of The Weekly Wrap under The Weekly Wrap heading on this page
Summary: Recounts the story of the unlikely friendship of George Whitefield and Benjamin Franklin.
The printer and the preacher. They were the most unlikely friends. One was an Oxford educated Englishman, thoroughly convinced of the gospel of Christ which he preached, and a man of utter rectitude in his marriage and dealings. The other was a Boston-born grammar school dropout, a deist who expounded a gospel of self help, an industrious printer and civic leader in Philadelphia, and not above sexual flirtation and affairs. George Whitefield and Benjamin Franklin.
Randy Peterson offers a fascinating account of how these disparate figures became friends, a relationship that lasted until 1770 when Whitefield, the younger man, died. Petersen also sketches the lives and impact of these two important figures in early American history. It all began in 1739 when Whitefield established a business relationship with Franklin as the printer of his sermons. This was a huge success for both men, multiplying Whitefield’s influence, already widespread, and profiting Franklin’s printing business. Franklin used his newspaper to report Whitefield’s preaching engagements (as well as his critics).
Over the years, the two became friends, with Whitefield a regular guest in Franklin’s home whenever passing through Philadelphia. Naturally, Whitefield, the evangelist, tried to convert Franklin, who believed in God, but did not believe Jesus to be God but merely a good teacher. But why did Franklin not only tolerate these efforts but regard Whitefield so highly. Among the reasons, was Whitefield’s eloquence and powerful preaching and its impact. This was because Franklin cared deeply about the civic growth of Philadelphia and the colonies, and the transformed lives of converts contributed to the improvement of morals and the advance of the common good. Not only that, Franklin admired Whitefield’s work in founding and supporting an orphanage in Georgia. And he showed concern for Whitefield’s health, weakened by his tireless preaching.
Petersen argues in this book that not only was their friendship mutually beneficial, it was important to America’s beginnings. Printing was the basis of Franklin’s influence, prospered early on by Whitefield’s sermons. Through printing, Franklin established a communications network, connecting the colonies. Whitefield’s preaching throughout the colonies, amplified by Franklin’s efforts, connected the colonies spiritually. In addition, Whitefield operated outside hierarchies and across denominations, a kind of revolution of the spirit that preceded political revolution.
And there is one more important consequence of their friendship identified by Petersen. They modeled religious freedom in their friendship. Franklin deeply respected and advanced Whitefield’s efforts, while never embracing Whitefield’s faith. And Whitefield remained a fast friend of Franklin, respecting his life and benefiting from his civic vision.
Petersen doesn’t offer the definitive biography of either man but probes deeply into this important friendship. And in this, he probes the wonderful opportunity of what can happen when differing parties keep talking and listening in mutual respect, recognizing common interests and respecting differences without requiring compromise. Might they serve as a model for our own day?
Summary: A graphic novel of the friendship of these four creatures who affirm the basic values of friendship, kindness, self-worth, and the love of cake!
I was in a group recently talking about books when someone asked if I had read The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse and I had to admit that I had not heard of it and joked that it sounded like one of those cognitive tests our docs like to give the over-65 crowd to test our short-term memory. Several others in the circle nodded and raved about how good this was for anyone from 8 to 80. I could stop my review right here and say, “what they said.” But I won’t.
What is it that makes so wonderful this roughly sketched (and occasionally painted) book with hand-written text supposedly smudged where the dog placed its paws and a tea cup stain left its mark? The boy and the three animals remind us of Christopher Robin and his ensemble.
The story traces the gathering of the four as the boy first meets mole, who lives in search of cake. Then they encounter a fox, caught in a trap, threatening to eat mole if he gets loose. Realizing the plight of the fox, mole gnaws the wire holding the fox. Later, they encounter a wise horse is winged.
But I think there are two things that captivate. One is the simple but profound responses of the creatures to each other, often to questions.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
” ‘Kind,’ said the boy”
” ‘What do you think success is?‘ asked the boy.”
” ‘To love,’ said the mole.”
We learn not to compare oneself to others, of the unique worth of each one, and to listen to dreams more than fears. We learn of the kindness of being kind to and forgiving oneself. The horse tells us the bravest thing he ever said is ‘Help” and that he was strongest in his weakness. He tells the boy he knows all about him and loves him still.
The other thing is that each is on a quest, the boy for home, the mole for cake, the fox in search of prey and the horse to fly without making others jealous. In each other they find what they seek, and yet that which is more–unconditional love.
Perhaps I’ve already said more than enough about a book you may read in 15 minutes but may savor for a lifetime, a contemporary Little Prince. This is a wonderful book to give those who aren’t readers. The author describes himself as such a person and yet has spun a captivating tale that in its simplicity, its quiet, reflective voice reminds us of what matters most, what endures, and is most true of each of us.
Summary: An exploration of how we might see people deeply and help them know that they are seen.
Most of us would want to be known as people who help people feel seen and to be deeply seen ourselves. But in our most honest moments, we have to admit we are not very good at this. We don’t listen well. We are far more capable of trying to impress others with our stories, our wit, our accomplishments. One of the most winsome aspects of this book is David Brooks candid admission that this characterizes his relationships far too often, even during his journey to explore this subject.
With his trademark clarity mixing research and personal narrative, Brooks describes the nature of good relationships, where people are seen by each other. He organizes this inquiry into three parts. The first of these is “I See You.” He speaks of how important and how lacking this is. He writes about the ways we often size up and diminish others. By contrast, he describes the qualities of an Illuminator, a model he will hold up and develop throughout the book: tender, receptive, actively curious, affectionate, generous, and holistic, seeing the whole person. Such people also are skilled in the practice of accompaniment, a relaxed awareness of the other as we share life with them. He discusses the marks of good conversations, where we loop back, actively listening, and avoid being the “topper.” He distinguishes between unhelpful questions where we stay superficial and the questions that take us deeper, that invite people to share something more of themselves.
The second part of the book goes deeper in seeing others in their struggles. One of the most powerful chapters in this section concerns how you serve someone in despair, and Brooks narrates his efforts to do this with a friend who eventually ended his life. He writes about what it means to empathize, describing it as mirroring, mentalizing, and caring. He speaks of how Illuminators are both aware of how they’ve been shaped by suffering and allow others who are suffering to process this question.
The final part of the book explores what it means to see people in their strengths. He summarizes personality with “the Big Five” ((he’s not much of a Myers-Briggs fan): extroversion, conscientiousness, neuroticism, agreeableness, and openness. He has a chapter on life tasks, reminding us that people are in a lifelong process of growth and that knowing someone involves discerning where in that process they are. He explores how we listen to and understand life stories and watch for how ancestors show up. He concludes with asking about the nature of wisdom and how it is acquired over a life, and how that changes our relationships.
In a time where we are so divided, where depression and anxiety are skyrocketing and our Surgeon General has named loneliness as a public health crisis, David Brooks has written a book that represents both a way to address many of these concerns and that appeals to “the better angels of our nature.” He writes as a fellow-learner on the journey, not as an authority. He speaks to one of the basics of life that often is overshadowed by the glitzy and the glamourous. He reminds us of the qualities of a good friend. He encourages me to want to be one.
Summary: Essays on family, friendships, the life of writing and bookselling, and mortality.
I’ve read most of Ann Patchett’s fiction, loving the writing if not always the ways her stories resolve (or not). I personally consider The Dutch House one of her best, along with Bel Canto. This is my first foray into her non-fiction, and I thought these essays revealed more than the character of Ann Patchett, particularly of her love of friendship and love of both writing and bookselling. It was a collection that reflects on marriage, on our families, on the literary world, and on mortality.
The title essay does all of this. “These Precious Days” is a lengthy account of her unlikely and mutually transforming friendship with Sooki Raphael. Sooki was the personal assistant to Tom Hanks, who Patchett met on an interview with Hanks. Further contacts with Hanks, including asking him to narrate one of her audiobooks led to continued contacts. During one of these, she learned Sooki had undergone surgery and treatments for pancreatic cancer. Staying in touch she learned of the cancer’s recurrence and Sooki’s plans to explore clinical trials. Patchett’s husband, a physician at Vanderbilt, learned of this from Ann, and was aware that Vanderbilt was running a number of clinical trials for pancreatic cancer. This led to Sooki coming to live for several months in Ann and Karl’s basement suite (at the height of Covid-19). The essay beautifully recounts the ways this unexpected friendship transformed both of their lives, as well as the beauty of Ann and Karl accompanying this woman in ways that never diminished her dignity while generously supporting her as she fought this beastly cancer.
In other essays, Patchett describes her three fathers and how each influenced her life. She discusses her decision to not have children, the people who insisted she should, and the intrusive questions she sometimes has faced when she would prefer to talk about her work. She writes about her mother, who often was mistaken as one of Ann’s sisters, due to her youthful beauty. She introduces us to Tavia Cathcart, the bombshell high school friend who moved from acting to becoming a premier nature interpreter, and how their friendship evolved as both she and Ann grew into their adult selves.
There is a healthy dose of gentle humor. She recounts her adventures with her friend Marti in Paris, and the tattoo she never got. She tells the story of a caller who insists on bringing her a letter documenting an award she had received from the Veterans of Foreign Wars, found in a nightstand that had once belonged to her. Then there is an incident where Karl comforts a woman worried about her baby’s development by offering the woman $20,000 to adopt the child! No way, and the woman stopped worrying. She describes her year when she gave up shopping. She recalls the Thanksgiving when she stayed at her college and decided to cook Thanksgiving dinner for her friends–from scratch! She writes about her husband’s love of flying–and of his insistence on finding deals on used planes. She reveals her on again, off again embrace of knitting.
She offers us glimpses of the literary world. Under her hand you find yourself drawn successively into Kate DiCamillo’s works for children and the work of Eudora Welty. In “A Talk to the Association of Graduate School Deans in the Humanities” she chronicles her experience in the MFA program at the Iowa Writer’s Workshop with her friend Lucy, her one interview for a faculty position and how failing to get that position gave her the chance to write. She speaks of the joys of owning a bookstore and the important lesson she didn’t learn in grad school–“if you want to save reading, teach children to read.”
Patchett recounts her own memento mori moment upon being elected to the American Academy of Arts and Letters, an honor reserved to 250 living members. She describes the portrait gallery in the Academy with photos arranged in order of members induction, going back to Samuel Clemens in 1898 up to her own picture in 2017. As she went back in time she realized she was moving increasingly from the company of living members to the deceased. At some point they all were. She realizes this will be true of her. She describes the simple card she receives with the death of another member, forty between her induction and the time of writing, including John Updike, who she had been so thrilled to be seated with at her own induction. She remembers his handing her the certificate of membership, a check, and giving her a fatherly kiss on the cheek.
Patchett brings to these essays the same insightfulness into the complexities and wonders of human beings, their relationships, and their lives as she does to the characters in her novels. One senses we are seeing all of this woven together in another story, that of the author, who writes with increasing appreciation of “these precious days” in her circles of family, friends, and acquaintances. And it nudges us to be mindful of similar “precious days” with the people and in the work we love.
