My heart hurts. Anna Dewdney died on Saturday after a 15 month battle with brain cancer, and I am sad. Anna was the author and illustrator of the Llama, Llama series. My kids are teenagers, so we were early Dewdney adopters, just barely making it but firmly claiming it. Llama Llama Red Pajama was the first book my daughter picked out by herself from the book fair. I sent her to school with the money (and the firm reminder that I only pay for books, not junk, and that it’s a book fair, not a junk fair, and that if she came home with pointers, posters, stickers, pencils, or erasers, she would have to pay me back.) The fact that she returned home with Llama Llama gives me comfort to this day; she has great taste. She will be all right in the world
Llama Llama Red Pajama is right up there with Good Night, Moon to me. It means small kids and sticky pages and honesty and silliness and bright colors and family love. I loved it every bit as much as the kids. Instead of a funeral, Anna requested that people read to a child. I’m going to find a child today and read to them. I’m going to hug them like a llama mama, and say a silent thank you for the original llama mama. May she read in peace.