Water Street
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Overview
Brooklyn, 1875: Bird Mallon lives on Water Street where you can see the huge towers of the bridge to Manhattan being built. Bird wants nothing more in life than to be brave enough to be a healer, like her mother, Nory, to help her sister Annie find love, and to convince her brother, Hughie, to stop fighting for money with his street gang. And of course, she wishes that a girl would move into the empty apartment upstairs so that she can have a new friend close by.
But Thomas Neary and his Pop move in upstairs. Thomas who writes about his life in his journal--his father who spends each night at the Tavern down the street, the mother he wishes he had, and the Mallon family downstairs that he desperately wants to be a part of. Thomas, who has a secret that only Bird suspects, and who turns out to be the best friend Bird could ever have.
Editorial Reviews
Water Street by Patricia Reilly Giff follows the journey begun with Nory Ryan's Song and Maggie's Door, picking up in 1875 Brooklyn, where Nory's daughter, Bird, aspires to be a healer like her mother. Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
Author Information
Bio of Patricia Reilly Giff
"I always start each day by writing. That's like breathing to me," says Patricia Reilly Giff. In fact, this bestselling author admits: "I wanted to write from the first time I picked up a book and read. I thought it must be the most marvelous thing to make people dance across the pages." Reading and writing have always been an important part of Patricia Reilly Giff's life. As a child, her favorite books included Little Women, The Secret Garden, the Black Stallion books, the Sue Barton books, and the Nancy Drew series. Giff loved reading so much that while growing up, her sister had to grab books out of her hands to get Giff to pay attention to her; later, Giff's three children often found themselves doing the same thing. As a reading teacher for 20 years, the educational consultant for Dell Yearling and Young Yearling books, an adviser and instructor to aspiring writers, and the author of more than 60 books for children, Patricia Reilly Giff has spent her entire life surrounded by books. After earning a B.A. degree from Marymount College, Giff took the advice of the school's dean and decided to become a teacher. She admits, "I loved teaching. It was my world. I only left because I was overwhelmed with three careers--teaching, writing, and my family." During the 20 years of her teaching career, she earned an M.A. from St. John's University, and a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. Then one morning, Giff told her husband Jim, "I'm going to write a book. I've always wanted to write and now I shall." Jim worked quickly to combine two adjacent closets in their apartment into one cramped workspace and, as Giff jokes, she "began [her] career in a closet." Giff explains, "I want the children to bubble up with laughter, or to cry over my books. I want to picture them under a cherry tree or at the library with my book in their hands. But more, I want to see them reading in the classroom. I want to see children in solitude at their desks, reading, absorbing, lost in a book." Giff tries to write books "that say ordinary people are special." She says, "All of my books are based in some way on my personal experiences, or the experiences of members of my family, or the stories kids would tell me in school." Therefore, when she runs out of ideas for her books, Giff says, "I take a walk and look around. Maybe I spend some time in a classroom and watch the kids for a while. Sometimes I lie on the living room floor and remember my days in second grade or third. If all that doesn't work, I ask Ali, or Jim, or Bill"--Giff's children, whose names often appear in her books. When she's not writing, Patricia Reilly Giff enjoys reading in the bathtub and going to the movies and eating popcorn. She and her husband reside in Weston, Connecticut. They have three children and five grandchildren. In 1990, Giff combined her two greatest loves--children's books and her family--and, with her husband and her children, opened The Dinosaur's Paw, a children's bookstore named after one of her Kids of the Polk Street School novels. This store is part of Giff's quest to bring children and books together. She and her family are trying to "share our love of children's books and writing and to help others explore the whole world of children's books."
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Additional Info
Imprint
Yearling
Filesize
860.78 KB
Number of Pages
176
eBook ISBN
9780307549051
Excerpt from: Water Street by Patricia Reilly Giff
chapter one bird Bird clattered down the stairs in back of Mama, past Mrs. Daley’s on the first floor, and Sullivan the baker at the window in front. Outside she and Mama held hands, swinging them back and forth as they hurried along Water Street. “Hot.” Bird squinted up at the sun that beat down, huge and orange. “Even this early,” Mama agreed. For a quick moment, they stopped to look at the tower standing by itself at the edge of the East River. One day it would be part of a great bridge. What would it be like to stand on top, arms out, seeing the world the way a bird would? she wondered. Bird, her nickname. She pulled her heavy hair off her neck. “Mrs. Daley says they’ll never be able to finish that bridge. She says it will collapse under its own weight and tumble right into the river.” They said it together, laughing: “Mrs. Daley says more than her prayers.” “Still,” Bird said, “half of Brooklyn says the same thing.” “Not I,” Mama said, “and not your da. We know anything is possible, otherwise we’d still be in the Old Country scrabbling for a bit of food.” Bird glanced at Mama, the freckles on her nose, her hair with a few strands of gray coming out of her bun ten minutes after she’d looped it up: Mama’s strong face, which Da always said was just like Bird’s. She couldn’t see that. When she looked in the mirror, she saw the freckles, the gray eyes, and the straight nose, but altogether it didn’t add up to Mama’s face. She was glad to reach the house on the corner, the number 112 painted over the door, and the vestibule out of the sun. They climbed the stairs, the light dim as they stopped to catch their breath on each landing. “Let me.” Bird took the blue cloth medicine bag that hung over Mama’s shoulder. “It seems your patients are always on the top floor.” “Ah, isn’t it so,” Mama said, holding her side. “And the babies always coming in the dead cold of winter, or on steamy days like this.” Bird could feel the tick of excitement. Mama’s words to her were deep inside her head: “Only days until your thirteenth birthday. You’re old enough to come with me for a birthing.” Bird’s feet tapped it out on the steps: a baby, a baby. She’d been helping Mama for a long time, chopping her healing herbs and drying them, helping to wash old Mrs. Cunningham, bringing tonic to Mr. Harris. But this! A baby coming! She couldn’t have been more excited. On the fifth floor, the door was half-open. Two children played under a window; an old man rocked in the one chair, a toddler on his lap pulling at his beard. “The daughter’s inside,” he said. In the bedroom, the daughter lay in a nest of blankets, her head turned away, her hair in long dark strands over the covers. She made a deep sound in her throat, then turned toward them, and Bird could see how glad she was that Mama was there. Who wouldn’t be glad to see Mama, who knew all about healing, about birthing? Mama, who always made things turn out right. Mama patted the woman’s arm. “I know, Mrs. Taylor.” She nodded at Bird. “Now here’s what you’ll do. You’ll sit on the other side of the bed there. Hold her hand, and cool her forehead with a damp cloth.” Easy enough, Bird thought. “And I’ll have the work of it,” the woman said before another pain caught her, blanching the color









